Gravy Trumpet

When you're holding in a poop with everything you have, cold sweat dripping down your forehead and you finally, barely make it to the toilet in time. Only then do you get to hear the glorious orchestral sound of the gravy trumpets

Feet swinging beneath the stall door, I knew that kid had to be done soon, he’s just playing with my emotions now. Finally he exits and asks “are you okay Mr?”

As I wipe away the forehead sweat and shove Jr to the side, my cheeks barely his the seat before the sweet serenade of the gravy trumpet rang throughout the stalls.