*Clean* outhouse humor

[ol'momma]

 

 

"The House Behind The House"

 

One of my fondest memories

As I recall the days of yore

Was the little house, behind the house,

With the crescent o'er the door.

'Twas a place to sit and ponder

With your head all bowed down low;

Knowing that you wouldn't be there,

If you didn't have to go.

 

Ours was a multi-holer, three,

With a size for every one.

You left there feeling better,

After your job was done.

 

You had to make those frequent trips

In snow, rain, sleet, or fog--

To that little house where you usually

Found the Sears catalog.

 

Oft times in dead of winter,

The seat was spread with snow.

Twas then with much reluctance,

To that little house you'd go.

 

With a swish you'd clear that wooden seat, Bend low, with dreadful fear

You'd shut your eyes and grit your teeth As you settled on your rear.

 

I recall the day Ol' Granddad,

Who stayed with us one summer,

Made a trip out to that little house

Which proved to be a bummer.

 

'Twas the same day that my Dad had

Finished painting the kitchen green.

He'd just cleaned up the mess he'd made

With rags and gasoline.

 

He tossed the rags down in the hole

Went on his usual way

Not knowing that by doing so

He'd eventually rue the day.

Now Granddad had an urgent call,

I never will forget!

This trip he made to the little house

Stays in my memory yet.

 

He sat down on the wooden seat,

With both feet on the floor.

He filled his pipe and tapped it down

And struck a match on the outhouse door.

 

He lit the pipe and sure enough,

It soon began to glow.

He slowly raised his rear a bit

And tossed the flaming match below.

The Blast that followed, I am told

Was heard for miles around;

And there was poor ol' Granddad

Sprawled out there on the ground.

 

The smoldering pipe still in his mouth,

His eyes were shut real tight;

The celebrated three -holer

Was blown clear out of sight.

 

We asked him what had happened,

What he said I'll ne'er forget.

He said he thought it must have been

The pinto beans he et!

Next day we had a new one

Dad put it up with ease.

But this one had a door sign

That read: No Smoking, Please

 

Now that's the story's end my friend,

Of memories long ago,

When we went to the house behind the house, Because we had to go.

[Stephanie]

Cute!

 

[ol'momma]

See...Tol' Ya it was clean.

[Crazy4Canning]

Oh my, if my grandpa were alive, this would be in his christmas sock. He love humor of this sort.

[Ambergris]

Oh, my! Where did this come from?

[zzelle]

oh my

[Jewlzm]