During the week, the church building where I work houses a charter school. This year (the school’s first) the school is limited to 5th and 6th graders, with the idea that a grade will be added each year until it goes through high school. The students wear uniforms of nice little blue shirts and ties.
Now, there are certain areas of the church where the kids do not go. One of those area is the women’s bathroom on the 1st floor, which happens to be the floor where the church office is located (it is also interesting to note that there is no men’s room on the 1st floor). There is a nice little sign to this effect posted on the door. Only it has the name of the school that was housed here last year, not our current building buddies. (Also: I hate that sign.)
Recently, I’ve been working really hard to make sure I drink the proper amount of water each day, which means I make several trips to this particular restroom. During one of my morning trips, I was followed. By a school administrator. Who happens to be male.
“Who came in here?” he asked. Flustered, I was trying to figure out if there was anyone else in this tiny bathroom (of course not). In my stunned silence, I guess he noticed my footwear. “I’m sorry, I thought you were one of my students.”
How I looked like a 5th grader, I’m not sure. But I never thought I’d be the minister-in-training being called into the principal’s office… from the bathroom.