Out from behind bars

by Shirley Bahlmann
Yikes - My son, Andy, reminded me that I haven't said if I'm out of jail yet. YES!
I thought I would be behind bars, but I was behind a door with a narrow window in it. If the door was pulled shut, it would lock automatically. This was not my favorite thing, but my cell mate, Michael, liked to lock the door, then call on the intercom for the guards to open it. Mega-muscle kid Michael also pulled one of the screws out of the metal flap that lets food pass through with his bare hands. He reported the loose screw to the authorities, but the next morning after he called on the intercom for us to be let out of the room (while I was doing deep breathing, telling myself that, yes, there was air) he pushed the door open and the trap door slapped down with a bang!
The room was only about 8' by 6'. The toilet was solid metal and was facing away from the door, but if someone put their face right up to the narrow window, they would be able to see a rather full moon. So I was glad to have my folding accordion cardboard fabric board to use as a screen. It was easier to access the cell potty than to run out and down the cement stairs and along the loooong hall to the public restroom.
Brian ended up coming only for the evening, enjoying the meal of tube steaks (hot dogs) and entrees (various bags of chips). He took one look at the barely 24" wide, 2" thick plastic covered foam mattresses and decided to go to the high school dance instead. But he did get his mug shot and a cool T-Shirt that reads, "I spent a night in the Sanpete County jail."
Brian missed the flashlight checks all night long. He missed the breakfast of pancakes and rubber eggs.
At one point, Michael patted the cell wall and said, "I like it here, Mom." So we had a discussion about how it could be fun if you knew you could leave. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to go to the store or the park or the swimming pool or play with his friends, and it would get tiresome very fast.
I told Michael that's the only night I want him to spend in jail. And that goes for me, too!

What do you wear to jail?

By Shirley Bahlmann
Tonight I'll be in jail. Seriously. But it's not my fault! It's all because of my two youngest sons.
We have a new county jail, you see, and someone thought of the bright idea to let community people stay there overnight before it's officially opened for business. Bob thought he might go stay with 9-year-old Michael, but his available next weekend is booked solid, so guess who is the responsible adult? (Well, the adult, anyway. No, not 15-year-old Brian who is going, too, but me. Moi.) When I called to book the room, the dispatcher told me there was an open toilet in the cell. No walls, no door.
Okay. So now what? I'm not willing to do what needs doing out in plain sight, so what to do about it? Wear an adult diaper? No, too drastic. I've got to shield myself... ah, yes! Use my accordion cardboard fabric mat! It folds out to make a screen that reaches clear to... oh. My waist.
Hm. That's okay when I'm sitting down, but what about standing up? What to do, what to do? Aha! Did you know that Queen Victoria used to hold court while sitting on a toilet? She covered the porcelain throne with her voluminous skirts! What's good enough for her is good enough for me. I'm wearing my long black jumper that goes clear to the floor. I've also got on my fuzzy hoodie, and I'm bringing my pink bathrobe to put over my head if necessary.
Yes, I think I'll cope just fine. I've had nothing to drink all afternoon, so maybe I won't even need to use the potty after all! And since this is the only overnight jail stay I ever plan to make, then I'll drink all the water I want from tomorrow on!
I'll just call this whole adventure "research."
Shirley Whirley Jailbird Girly