Lowering My Standards
Drip. Splash. Squelch.
The bathroom door is locked. The three year old is nowhere to be found.
Knock-knock. “Zibbit? Are you in there?”
“IT’S OKAY!” You hear from behind the door. Splish-splosh. Ahem.
“Please come open the door Zibbit.” A very guilty face appears.
“It’s okay, Mommy!” She chirps unconvincingly.
“Where did all this water come from, honey?”
“It’s not water!” Uh-oh.
“Is it pee-pee? Did you have an accident?”
“No, it just comed out of the potty.” Oh shit.
Upon entering the bathroom, you find yourself faced with the entire Columbia river flowing across the beautiful hardwood floors. The brand new roll of toilet paper is now completely empty. The toilet is groaning and sputtering in the corner, begging for mercy. The three year old is absolutely soaked, and charmingly sheepish.
“I flushed it,” she says. “A lot of times I flushed it.”
You survey the situation, hands on your hips and a furrow in your brow. And then you do the only thing a reasonable woman can do. You turn off the light. Close the bathroom door. And pretend it never happened.
I have done that before!! You are right… it’s the only reasonable response to such a situation. The other response options would be much less reasonable!
(P.S. I hope the Bathroom Fairy came by later and cleaned it all up for you!)
Comment by Skye — June 29, 2007 @ June 29, 2007 at 9:26 am
That happened here once, and when I peered into the bottom of the toilet, there was spiderman, waving for help!!!
Comment by Sara — June 29, 2007 @ June 29, 2007 at 10:19 am
Fabulous writing, fabulous story. Always much funnier when its someone else’s mess to clean up. Thanks for sharing.
I remember doing something very similar as a child.
Comment by Tiffany — June 30, 2007 @ June 30, 2007 at 9:35 am
You did good. It is the same thing I would have done. I like your blog. Thanks.
Comment by Missionary Mom — July 30, 2007 @ July 30, 2007 at 5:32 pm