During the same holiday I had another 'incident' of the bathroom variety! I think it was even on the same campsite.
It was early evening and I needed a pee, so off I trotted to the toilet block. The facilities were not up to much, cleanliness wise and they saw a fair amount of traffic but at least they weren't the hole in the ground version! The floor in the whole block was a bit wet and one likes to think, at these times, that the floor is wet because someone has just been in to clean it. However, you're never really sure, but needs must so I popped into a cubical (I knew I was OK this time because there was a door!)
I was wearing an 'all in one' outfit! Well, we are talking about the 80's here. My mother would call it a 'jumpsuit', an odd expression I've always thought, but hopefully you get the picture.
As all women know, we do our best NOT to put bums on seats. Hovering was the order of the day. The 'jumpsuit' was button through and so I had to undo the thing from the neck down to get it off, take my arms out and then pull it down, as you would trousers. It's at times like these when you realise that being a victim of fashion is not at all practical in certain circumstances! I was now, more or less, without clothes except for my outfit which was somewhere around my knees.
Another problem was that, because of the wet floor, I had to hold my clothes up at about knee height while squatting so that none of it dangled on the floor! I think you may have the picture now and not a pretty one at that. Well, at least the door had a lock (at least there was a door) so I was fairly safe in there.
By this time I was just about ready to do what I'd come in for when, just at the crucial moment, a bloody great dragonfly flew over the top of the cubical door and down the leg of my outfit! I think I screamed, probably very loudly and I must admit this bit is fairly hazy, probably due to the trauma! All I can really remember is being conscious that I didn't have enough hands. I needed both of them to keep my clothes from dropping on the wet floor and I needed a spare one to retrieve the loudly buzzing insect from somewhere underneath my pants! To this day I can't remember how I did it. In fact I may have passed out with panic, only to be rescued, in my nakedness, by some passer by who was alerted by the screaming! I really can't tell you. But I do know that I'm not that keen on being anywhere in the vicinity of large buzzing insects, clothed or unclothed (me not the insects), and that that's not easy when you have a Small Sprog for a son.