A few of my closer Mudcat buddies have already heard this one, but I guess it's time to share it with the rest of you.

About 20 years ago, I was part of a crew working with a plumbing contractor. As we worked primarily on new houses, there were never operational bathroom facilities until our portion of the job was completed, therefore leaving us to seek out "alternate facilities" in and around the job site, or possibly a nearby business with public restrooms.

One very foggy morning, a coworker and I had been assigned to go start "roughing in" a new house that was located halfway up the side of a very large wooded hill.

After unloading our truck of our tools and needed supplies for our day's work, my morning coffee began to "kick in," so, grabbing a handful of napkins from the glovebox, I ventured into that thick morning fog, for the woods next to the house.

Locating a suitable clearing in the woods in which to do my business, I "dropped trou" & did just that.

As the morning hours rolled by, the fog had cleared, the sun began to shine, & I was busy sweating (soldering) pipes together in the basement of this new dwelling.

My coworker, who was beginning to feel the effects of his morning coffee, approaches me, inquiring as to the whereabouts of my "facilitation," so as not to "step" in the wrong place.

While I was pointing to the general direction of the "clearing in the woods," he kept looking at me somewhat puzzled & repeatedly asked "Where?"

Finally, getting rather frustrated, I climbed down from my stepladder and walked to the window as I proceeded to direct him "RIGHT OVER TH...."

That's right, folks, in that thick morning fog, in that "so thick you can't see six feet in front of you" fog, I had managed to mistake the middle of someone's front lawn for that "little clearing in the woods."

Well, after we had laughed so hard that my buddy had almost soiled himself, I was faced with the dilemma of cleaning up my deposit (with which came a very good chance of being seen by the occupants of the house) or leaving them to discover it on their own and hopefully concluding that there were some very hygienic forms of wildlife inhabiting the nearby woods.

I opted for the latter solution.

I periodically run into some of the guys from that plumbing crew. And I'm told that now & then, "The Legend of the Phantom Crapper" is still told during the occasional coffee break.

DB.