Eric Lagergren

I Did Nothing Inappropriate

Eric Lagergren

Saturday night I was Larry Craiged by a three-year-old in an IHOP bathroom.

As a get-well gift from a recent surgery, my aunt sent my wife and me a $25 IHOP gift card, which we decided to use for a Saturday night out.

After our meal, I went into the restroom to pee. While standing at the urinal, a tiny tennis-shoed foot emerges from under the stall beside me.  I’m peeing. The foot scoot-shuffles its way clumsily over next to mine, then comes up and stomps down on top of my shoe.

I hear a giggle.

I’m midstream. I don’t try evasive maneuvers.

From the sink, an older gentleman says, “Nathan, that’s not me.” From the stall, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not me.”

From the stall, giggles.

I remain quiet. A recent thyroidectomy has left me mostly voiceless. I decide not to say anything because when I talk it’s difficult to hear me. It’s a creepy, smokey-hookery, late-night phone sex unsexy, puberty Peter Brady.

Nathan exits the stall, laughing. He washes his hands with grandpa’s help, says something about how funny it was to step on some guy’s foot.

They leave. I wash up. I leave.

My wife is waiting. I ask her if she saw the kid and his grandpa leave. She had. Both had huge grins.

I told her I’d just been Larry Craiged by a three-year-old in an IHOP bathroom.