As I lathered up my hair a vaguely smell met my nose. It was that of a childhood ice cream but as I began to rinse out my dark brown locks of hair, another familiar smell tickled my nose. The distinct smell of urinal cakes.
This leads me to an honest to god true story from the real life. I was a wee young boy at the time so I had to just now call my mother to confirm a few facts so that I can bring you a factual story that holds in case someone, somewhere should decide to do a bit of poking and prodding. Not that you like that sort of thing, right?
Anyway I digress. Let's get to it. It was my grandparents (on my fathers side, this is important to mention. They're a simpler people) 50th wedding anniversary. I may have been 10 years old at the time and I'm *ahem* 29 as I write this. The venue was an all too brown, all too dark room with dark brown heavy curtains. Everyone in the family was invited and we'd been treated to a clear beef soup and the main was a dry something beef type meat served wit baby carrots, peas, and those tiny onions you put in a gin martini and some sort of thick brown sauce. While the grown ups either had wine or lemonade (my grandparents on my fathers side were ancient even by this point and wouldn't have survived even smelling a light beer but still managed to hold on for dear life for another 5 years) the kids were allowed all the soda we could keep down. This was to be tested by all of us kids and I had to go to the loo more than once even before the traditional ice cream cake that was served for pudding.
The loo, it was different. It had a very harsh and distinct smell (I learned later that this was the urinal cakes. HERE WE GO!!) and my father patiently explained about the funny looking metal gutters with the odd ice (URINAL CAKES) and beer bottle caps. Well, ok. He only said "we urinate in it so don't touch it". Fair enough. I peed, washed my hands as my mother (she brings the classy side of the family) has taught me and returned to my half empty bottle of Coca Cola. As coffee was served and I was coming down from an epic sugar high, a little boy (I had NO clue who he was) - he was about 4 years old - came walking out of the loo. The boy was apparently my cousins son (on my fathers side) and still not even my parents can remember which one. She has 5.
So, the boy was walking out of the loo and smiling. Broad blue smile. His mother spotted it first. The little happy chappie was blue all over his face and hands holding and munching on blue balls (insert inappropriate comments here). It transpires that no one had told the boy that the gutter in the loo wasn't a tray of blue, icey delights. He was smiling and giggling at his newfound treats until his mother came rushing over, pushing the blue urinal cakes out of his hands, staining the fairly off white bordering tan shagcarpet blue. They then proceeded to the nearest pay phone (this was pre portable phone days) and called 999.
Don't worry guys, the proprietor managed to remove the blue stains and most of the smell from the shag and the little boy didn't mess up his elastic bow tie. Oh, ok. They boy was fine and made it back in time for Kransekage and he managed so much soda that I swear he could have flown the entire family home. But this was the day when the first baby steps were made to understand the advise
DON'T EAT YELLOW SNOW
So that was my little urinal cake story and time goes on I may update again but don't hold your breath. You might get blue in the face.
