Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Snakes in the Outhouse


Today’s story for my on-line memoir is one that amuses me. It shows just how trusting and naïve I was at age seven. Adults and children also were always pulling practical jokes on me because I could be duped so easily. This particular story is about an outhouse joke.
         When Grandpa Ready died in March 1943, he had completed much of the work on the retirement home he planned for himself and Grandma Ready. She offered the house, which still needed plastering, painting, window framing, flooring, electrical work, to my family for $25 a month rental.
         For the next two months, while I finished first grade at Courtney School, Dad worked in the evenings on the house. He plastered and painted the walls and completed the flooring in every room but the kitchen.
         Dad lived there until his death in 1975. I lived there until 1954, when I went away to college at Mount Saint Scholastica in Atchison, Kansas. I came home only for the summers, and then left for good in 1958 when I entered the Benedictine convent in Atchison.
         Dad never completed the house. No painting of the shingled one-story house, no window framing on the inside, no finished flooring in the kitchen. And no indoor plumbing until after I was in the convent and the city brought water out into the countryside. Every few months, a truck arrived at our home, carrying a supply of water to fill our well.
         Without running water, of course, we had no indoor bathroom and so used a slop bucket, which my brother emptied each morning through the hole in the outhouse seat. It’s that outhouse that Grandma Ready picked as a subject for teasing.


         “Dolores,” she said. “Be careful when you use the outhouse.”
         “Why, Grandma?”
         “Snakes live in the muck. They wait until they see a person’s bottom on that seat. Then they jump up and bite you!”
         I shivered at the thought.
         “They’re poisonous.”
         “You mean they can kill me?”
         She walked to the outhouse with me, opened the door, and pointed to the hole. “They’re hiding down there. Waiting to leap up and bite your butt. They’ll kill you lickety-split and you’ll fall into the muck.”


         From that day forward, I never sat on the hole. I’d put my hands on each side of me to support myself as I held my bottom up above the hole. I figured that if I were three inches above the hole, the snakes couldn’t reach me. They were able, I thought, to jump just to the edge of the hole. That far; no farther.
         Three inches assured no poison. But I was doomed if I sat on the hole.
         Until I was nearly eleven, I continued to do this. The story always rang true to me. Then one day Mom opened the outhouse door, not knowing I was inside. She apologized and then, noticing my position, said, “Dolores, what are you doing? Why are you holding yourself like that? Why aren’t you sitting on the seat?”
         I explained about what Grandma had told me. “Mom, it’s not safe to sit,” I said. “I hope you don’t sit. You’ve got to be three inches higher. The snakes can’t jump that far.”
         “On, Dolores,” Mom moaned. “Your grandma was just joshing with you.”
         “She meant it, Mom.”
         “Believe me. If there ever were any snakes inside there, they’re long since dead.”
         “Really?”
         “Really.”
         From then on, I sat on the outhouse seat. Much more comfortable, believe me. And Grandma? She said, “Really fooled you, didn’t I?”
         Yes.
         

69 comments:

  1. I would have believed her, too. Oh, how I hated the outhouse at my aunt's lake cabin in Minnesota. A great story as usual, Dee.

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, glad to know that I wouldn't have been the only gullible seven-year-old around! I'm wondering if lake cabins in Minnesota still have outhouses? Not sure. Peace.

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    2. At my aunt's cabin they put in a bathroom eventually, but the water pressure was poor so things didn't work well. The water was also extremely hard. I remember my mom making Kool-Aid and it tasted awful because of the water. I haven't been to the cabin in many years, but when I was growing up, we went almost every summer. My aunt and uncle passed away quite some time ago. I think one of their children inherited the cabin.

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  2. hahaha well at least you were getting strong muscles in your arms as he kept yourself above the seat.

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    1. Dear Pat, yes, my arm muscles were strong as a child but at my present age they are crepey and floppy! Peace.

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  3. I had to use an outhouse when I vacationed at my Aunt's home in Paxton, MA when I was a child. There might not have been any snakes, but oh how scared I was of the sounds of the night when natured called after 9 PM. Today, no matter what the need, nothing and nobody will convince me to use even a pot o potty - even in the daylight.

    We must always be careful what we say to children as their innocence is pure and their trust of a loved one is without bounds.

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    1. Dear Arleen, out in the country, sounds seem so loud because there aren't any city noises that muffle them. So it's no wonder you were scared. And yes, I so agree with you that we must be careful in talking with children. My grandmother was something of a tyrant and didn't much care about the feelings or the youth of anyone in her family. As I've aged, I've felt sorry for her. Peace.

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  4. I would have believed your grandmother as well if she told the story with a straight face.

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    1. Dear Lorna, Grandma always had a straight face. She seldom either smiled or grimaced. She mostly just issued commands. Peace.

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  5. Funny story!! I probably would have done the same thing--or held it in until I exploded.

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    1. Dear Fishducky, but I bet you would have caught on a little sooner than I did! Peace.

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  6. Children surely remain that naive. And even fool themselves. My brother and I thought our grandma could remove her teeth and tried and tried to lift our out the same way.

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    1. Dear Joanne, I so enjoyed your anecdote about your grandma's teeth and trying to remove yours. That is truly how children believe. Peace.

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  7. Oh, this is a wonderful story! I would have done the same as you, Dee, and probably never would have even been brave enough to visit the outhouse at all!

    Your grandma had a sly sense of humor- but bless your heart for going through that many years of it!

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    1. Dear Shelly, during the day we had to visit the outhouse because Mom didn't want us to use the slop bucket, which was in what was called the bathroom, until it was dark outside. Peace.

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  8. The things you've seen and done! I am absolutely staggered at the experiences you've had in your life and I love your wide-eyed sense of wonder about them all. As for me, I'm certain I would have found a tree to squat next to rather than go inside the outhouse, but I'm a little claustrophobic, too, so the snake story would have put me over the edge.

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    1. Dear Kario, I understand about being claustrophobic. I don't think I was as a child, but as I've aged, I have that phobia plus a fear of heights. You know, we did have trees, but I never thought of squatting next to one! You're the one with the imagination. And you know, Kari, my life has been pretty typical I think. When I read articles in the paper about child abuse, I realize just how blessed I was. Peace.

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  9. At 7? Ack, crawling dread! You could have stayed braced, body tensed into adulthood(ok, now I am overdoing it, but...).

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    1. Dear Mary, I think Mom helped put it all in perspective for me. And I've seldom had trouble with constipation so I must not have tensed up much!!! Peace.

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  10. HA HA ---cute story, Dee, and I had a similar one. When I was 8, I went to church camp. We had to use the outhouse there... One of the boys told me that there were snakes inside the hole... WELL--that scared me, and I did everything I could NOT to have to potty that week I was there. When I did go, I did exactly what you did ... Ha ha.....

    Hugs,
    Betsy

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    1. Dear Betsy, I'm sorry to learn that this happened to you, but I've decided that it must be pretty typical of a certain sense of humor that scare those of us who are the most naive. Peace.

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  11. A delightful tale Dee- made me smile as I remembered things from my own childhood.
    Thanks for sharing. Hope you are well and happy ~:)

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    1. Dear Pam, I find myself smiling a lot when I remember my childhood and what a serious child I was. I am well and happy. I hope that you are also and that Florida is especially beauty this time of year--for your camera and your walks. Peace.

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  12. I'll get you had some killer arms! So at least it was good exercise. :)

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    1. Dear Nancy, yes, good exercise. I need more of that now. Peace.

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  13. I absolutely hate it when kids get kidded like this and the record is not set straight by the supposedly responsible adult. Sorry, but I don't find it funny.

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    1. Dear Inger, I agree wholeheartedly with you that adults make huge and sometimes long-lasting mistakes when they kid and tease children this way. What I find amusing in the story is not what Grandma Ready did, but what a child's reasoning did with what she said. She said that the snakes would bite if I was sitting on the seat. So I reasoned that being three inches higher would keep them from biting me. Why three inches? I have no idea, but in my child's mind that was the answer. That's amusing to me--the way my mind worked as a child. Sort of magical thinking. The problem is that I still do magical thinking as an adult--witness the lottery tickets I've bought twice a week now for twenty years!!! Peace.

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  14. Bet you had strong biceps though! Since you mentioned nuns....Two of my grandmother's sisters were Mercy nuns. When I was little they'd come to visit. I was very curious about how they dealt with mother nature and would try to follow them whenever they headed for the bathroom, only to have the bathroom door firmly shut in my face! I was convinced they must have some contraption rigged around their waists so that they could "go" without having to lift up their voluminous habits!

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    1. Dear Molly, oh I love the minds of children! Sisters of Mercy taught me throughout grade school and high school. They are wonderful teachers and I feel so blessed that they gave me my academic foundation. But---they are simply human beings who must deal with mother nature the same as everyone else. However, when I was in the convent, we had an undergarment that had split legs in it that made going to the bathroom easier to do with the long habits. Peace.

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  15. Sadly, this is STILL one of my irrational fears. Doesn't help when someone in a random city finds a python that's gotten loose in their toilet. OR that I had a fish that was sick (or so I thought) so I scooped him out and flushed him (as was an ethical way of not killing off the entire rest of the tank) and an hour later I found him swimming around in the bowl.

    I figured if he survived the flush he couldn't be that sick. Threw him back in the tank and he lived for another year.

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    1. Dear Juli, what a delightful story. Reminds me of the three little fishes "who swam and who swam and who swam right over the dam." I've read that the first five years of a child's life are rooted/rutted within his her mind and personality forever. I wonder if something happened to you when you were young that has given you this fear of snakes. I still remain very afraid of them also. Peace.

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    2. I know that my irrational fear of turtles comes from a nature walk with my dad. I went over to a turtle in the bog, dad flipped out because it was a snapper, and I freak out over turtles even now.

      But I remember a time when I wasn't afraid of snakes... even picked them up out of the back yard with my bare hands.

      But one would think that the thought of an 8 foot "pet" snake turning up in someone's toilet would be enough trauma for anyone.

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  16. I agree with Inger. Of course a child would believe her grandmother. It was most likely humorous to her but it could give a child a life-long fear of outhouses

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    1. Dear Manzanita, I also agree with Inger. If you have time, please read my response to her comment. And what you say is true.....I don't like outhouses! Peace.

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  17. Oh my goodness, Dee. You must have been so afraid. You also must have been strong to hold yourself up for as long as necessary! Your Grandma had a wicked sense of humor! :-) My great-grandother lived in Missouri and I can remember using her outhouse. I was appalled! I was probably six or seven and jus could not understand how anyone could have "THAT" as their only source of plumbing! Aren't we happy with modern convenience!

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    1. Dear Debra, the one good thing about our outhouse is that Mom bought real toilet paper to put in it. Her mother--Grandma O'Mara--lived in Anderson, which is in the hill country of southwestern Missouri. In her outhouse she placed the most recent Sears or Montgomery Ward catalogue. We used its pages to wipe with and believe me, that wasn't comfortable. Peace.

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  19. Dee, you are braver than I would have been. I. DON'T. DO SNAKES. WELL. In one of our houses there was a red-bellied black snake (venomous) which lived under the front steps. For at least ten months of the year I didn't use the front door. For anything.

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    1. Dear EC, I'd have done the same thing, Sue, I'd have steered clear of the front steps forever. Missouri has at least two venomous snakes--the rattler and the water moccasin. The creek that ran through our twenty acres had deep water holes in some places sometimes I'd see a moccasin undulating across these. Always, I ran away. Peace.

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  20. Sounds a cruel thing to say to a child to me.

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    1. Dear Annie, it's true: what Grandma said was cruel. But as I said in my response to Inger, I now find the whole thing amusing because of the solution that little girl--sometimes called Dodo and sometimes called Dolores--came up with. Peace.

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  21. Oh, my! To think she never told you she was joking. But of course she probably forgot all about it not realizing your machinations to keep from getting bit! I've been exposed to an outhouse or two but never had to live with one. My sister did, though. She hated it.

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    1. Dear DJan, yes, I think she did forget about it. My grandmother, as I said in an earlier comment today, could be very tyrannical. And I really don't think she ever concerned herself with the feelings of others. It took me years to shake off the comments she made to me while I was growing up. She died while I was in the convent and so I never really got to know her when I was able to engage on a peer level with her. Peace.

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  22. Ha ha, you mean there really aren't snakes in there?? My big fear was planted by my brother who told me giant spiders lurked under the seat that just loved chewing on young behinds. I use to bang on the seat to scare them. We evidently had similar relatives and were equally gullible.

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    1. Dear Arkansas Patti, oh yes, spiders. I'm afraid of both spiders and snakes and spiders also seem to build many webs in the corners of the outhouse. I could really understand Ron--one of the three children in the Harry Potter books--and his fear of spiders, especially those in the Forbidden Forest. Peace.

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  23. I do think it was rather cruel of her -- especially not to have put the record straight. But I'm glad you were resilient enough not to have some serious bathroom issues -- and I hope it means your arms are nicely toned!

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    1. Dear Broad, if you have time, please read my response to Inger. Also my response to DJan.

      The truth of my life is that I have come both to love and to admire that little girl who was so gullible. And yes, my arms got nicely toned but you should see them today--all floppy! Peace.

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  24. Oh, Dee, funny as this seems, it was no less than cruel of your grandmother to do this to you. While your arms grew strong, you really could have ended up with all sorts of other problems from her teasing. All's well that ends well, and your sense of humor is in tact and ready to tell this tale.

    I must tell you that I've been wondering if you were okay as nothing has popped up in quite a while in my inbox informing me that you had posted. I finally came over today to see if something was up, and find that I was no longer signed up to get notification. I've re-upped, dear Dee, and will do some catching up a bit later, happy to back on the notification route. I've missed reading you.

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    1. Dear Penny, so good to have this comment from you. I'm glad you "re-upped." Several readers like yourself have found my grandma's actions cruel and I agree with all of you. In my comment to Inger, I explain why I find this amusing story. And in my comment to DJan and others I explain more about my grandmother and her ways. Take care. Peace.

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  25. I was also a trusting, gullible child. I'm glad no one told me about snakes when I used the outhouse at a relatives farmhouse. I was scared enough of the spiders! No better place for a spider to catch a fly than in an outhouse--LOL!

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    1. Dear Rita, sounds like we were a lot alike. And yes, an outhouse boasts lots of flies--buzzing, buzzing, buzzing--and the spider weave lots of corner webs in which to capture them! Peace.

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  26. My brothers told me there were black widow spiders under the hole, just waiting....

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    1. Dear Susan, oh, not just spiders, but a black widow. That would have terrorized me. My brother never did that but he surely know how to push all my buttons! Peace.

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  27. People sure used to know how to tell these stories to kids (I really hope they don't anymore). I heard friends of my mom saying a rat could come up into the toilet and bite your bottom. That gave me some fear, but at least if worried I could flush!

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    1. Dear Deanna, yes, those stories must have been rampant: snakes, rats, spiders--all the things that make many of us cringe! Peace.

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  28. This made me chuckle, Dee, as we had an outside privy when I was a child and I'm sure I would have believed her too. That said, your grandmother must have known your were a trusting child, so her joke wasn't the kindest thing to do to a seven-year-old.

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  29. Dear Perpetua, no, her joke wasn't the "kindest thing to do to a seven-year-old" but I suspect she never thought I'd hang on to the her words for three years. She was a proud woman who thought the Readys were better than anyone else on the block. So she would have been ashamed of me--that I hadn't figured out the joke right away. Peace.

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  30. Thanks to your Grandma, you had killer abs and quads. I will admit, though, if I were a snake living in the pit, I'd try to jump out too. It's bad enough being stuck out in the rain.

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    1. Dear Murr, yes "killer abs and quads" then, not now. Mostly flab! Thanks for directing my attention to what the snakes might have been thinking! Peace.

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  31. Dee, You should do the "Where I'm From" thing yourself....I bet it would be a very interesting one! Let me know if you do it.

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    1. Dear Molly, I'm thinking about doing that but after reading the lyricism of Friko's, I think mine might be pretty prosaic and boring. We'll see. If I do, I will let you know. Peace.

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  32. I don’t think that was very funny. I think it was mean. Your grandma could at least have told you a bit later, when she’d had enough of the joke. Grownups can be so cruel.

    Just as well there aren’t any outhouses anymore. Or are there?

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    1. Dear Friko, as I said to Inger in response to her comment, I think it was mean also, but that was Grandma Ready. She could be cruel. And yes, there are still outhouses in the United States. Mostly I think they are out in the country where the city or township or county hasn't laid pipes. So the people in some parts of the country--out a few miles from the city/town simply have a well and an outhouse. Peace.

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  33. Dee, I'm sorry your grandmother was such a mean spirited wounded rat. That's all. Amen.

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    1. Dear Michelle, I know very little about my grandmother's upbringing or what she experienced as a child or young adult. But I suspect that she was, indeed, "wounded." Peace.

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  34. I wonder why she did that. Was she trying to prevent you from sitting admist germs or something? I never sit down at public restrooms. I do what I'd like to call "the hover" because of germs lol

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    1. Dear Elisa, I think that she was just "joshing" with me as she would have said. She meant no harm and simply didn't think that I'd continue for years to take what she said seriously.

      Thank you for the word "hover." That's exactly what I did. But I put my hand on each side of my body to hold it up! Peace.

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  35. That's funny. We had an outhouse when I was growing up. When I was about 5, I dropped two of our bluetick hounds down in the muck. Fortunately they were wearing collars and my mom fished them out with a long piece of wire.
    Guess who had to clean them up?

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    1. Dear Rick, thanks for stopping by. I so enjoyed your outhouse adventure! Those poor hounds . . . and I can't really imagine what cleaning them up must have been like. Did you have a water hose attached to an outdoor spigot????? Peace.

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