Y’all know I’m a Missouri girl through and through, raised on a little country farm. The most exotic thing I’ve ever done is take some French classes at Drury a hundred years ago, which I sucked at, by the way.
So last night was our little adult dinner get-together with That Man’s brothers and their wives. We had a little surprise: his parents arrived unexpectedly from the Lake of the Ozarks. We left the monsters with their cousins and headed to the Metropolitan Grill, my choice this time. We’re having a lovely time visiting, when Aunt BB left to use the restroom.
She came back glowing with excitement. “They have a bidet! You’ve got to try it!”
Now this wasn’t any boring old bidet by any means. This one was programmable with a heated seat. Oscilliate or pulse? Front or back? Dry?
I’m not kidding. We giggled and laughed throughout the rest of the dinner, with BB encouraging all of us to drink faster so we could all try the restroom. She challenged me to try it, and you know I never refuse a challenge. Write a zombie love story? I’m there. Try an electronic bidet? Ooookay.
They had a sign in the restroom with instructions on how to work the thing, and the header was “To Bidet or Not to Bidet.” That cracked me up and I was sold. Of course I tried it.
I don’t think they’re going to let me go back to the Metropolitan Grill.
Kidding. I didn’t blow up anything. But you know my history with power cords…