“I sold more books today than your daddy, Andra.” Mom stood next to the closed bathroom door.
“You did not, Linda! Don’t you go telling her that!” Dad’s voice shrieked from the bowels of the toilet.
“Now, Roy. You know I sold my person back at that pull off, and you didn’t sell yours. She didn’t buy a book, but mine did. DID.”
“Well, that may be, but I sold twenty books total yesterday. How many did YOU sell?”
“IS THIS A CONTEST NOW????? BETWEEN YOU TWO???” I sloshed my feet in a pan of salty water, trying in vain to zone out, to recover from another 15-mile day.
As I rolled over on the bed, Dad flung the bathroom door open. Pants around his ankles, he shouted, “Hey, Linda! Come and help me off the pot!”
My poor eyeballs will never be the same.
Click here to see the best photos from my last rest day on my Natchez Trace 444-mile walk: Andra Watkins Tumblr
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Here’s today’s Reader Question. More bathroom etiquette.