Confessions of a Foot Flusher

My name is Margaret and I am a foot flusher. I am not proud of this fact. I feel guilty every time I do it. I feel compassion for my fellow man (or in this case, woman) who has to use the stall after me and if she uses her hands to flush the toilet in a public restroom, she is pretty much risking her life because of what I've potentially stepped onto. Or into. And it is because of the unknown handle usage of the woman who has used the stall prior to yours truly that my hands will not touch the chrome stick of the porcelain god. (I know, I know, that's what she said).

I don't make a habit of taking pictures in the bathroom, but for you, my kiddies, I make the following exception:

So right now you are thinking one of two things:

1. Oh my God, you horrible horrible troglodyte! Who do think you are? It's people like you why half the potty stalls in this world are out of order. You are depriving many people of a decent crap because of your selfish ways. Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace a toilet flush handle? Well, I don't know how much it costs but I bet it costs a lot, I can tell you that!

or...

2. How in the hell did you take that picture and not slip and crack your head open on the tile floor? Or accidentally plunge your foot into the toilet. You are now my blog photo hero. Here's an award. No wait! Here's a million dollars because you, NGIP, are awesome.

And this would be my reply to either of your responses since it fits both, really:

I know, right?