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THE HOUSE BEHIND THE HOUSE

P

Pigtails

Guest
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. :w00t2:

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, :whistling:
What he said I'll ne'er forget.
He said he thought it must have been
The pinto beans he ate!

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.

For those who never had to trot out in the Cold.....
Just Give Thanks!!!
 

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darroll

Guest
Little Boy And The 0uthouse




Once there was a little boy who lived in the country.
They had to use an outhouse,
and the little boy hated it because it was hot
in the summer,
cold in the winter and smelled all the time.

The outhouse was sitting on the bank of a creek
and the boy determined that one day
he would push that outhouse into the creek.
One day after a spring rain, the creek was swollen
so the little boy decided today was the day
to push the outhouse into the water.

So he got a large stick
and started pushing.
Finally, the outhouse toppled into the creek
and floated away.

That night his dad told him
they were going to the woodshed
after supper. Knowing that meant a spanking,
the little boy asked why. The dad replied,
"Someone pushed the outhouse
into the creek today.
It was you, wasn't it, son?"

The boy answered yes.
Then he thought a moment and said,
"Dad, I read in school today that George Washington chopped down a cherry tree and didn't
get into trouble because he told the truth."

The dad replied,
"Well, son, George Washington's
father
wasn't in that cherry tree.
 

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