I went into the bathroom this morning, and the childproof toilet seat thingy was off the toilet. Admittedly, this is one of those “safety” items that might not be as necessary for “safety” as it is for “hygeine.” Still, I was headed into the shower, and Mini was roaming free in the master bedroom, so I felt it was probably good to figure out if I could fix it.
Naturally, after wrestling with the grossness of being so close to the toilet with the seat up, and after dry heaving from touching this plastic gadget that pretty much has to be covered in e coli and god only knows what else horror of bacteria growth, I got it back on. I had to fight with Mini about why he shouldn’t stick his hand into the bowl directly, finally managing to box him out with my (substantial) butt while I wrestled with the thing, and yeah, he screamed and cried, because what kind of a terrible mother doesn’t let her toddler stick his fingers directly into the toilet water? The humanity!
I take a shower. Mini comes in and bangs on the door. He locks himself in the bathroom with me. I sing songs to him, mostly gibberish, that he likes to dance to (dance=bounce butt up and down). He bangs on the shower door again. Finally, I finish up, get out. Disaster averted, one shower at a time.
Time passes. I’m blow drying my hair with the Blow & Go. Mr. Right-Click goes into the bathroom and says, “Oh, did you see the disaster I had in here earlier?” And I say, “Disaster? Do you mean when you broke the toilet thingy?”
“Did I break it?” he asks.
“No, but you took it off.”
“Yeah, well I had a little bit of a disaster.”
“What do you mean, ‘Mini’?”
“Well, I was peeing, and Mini came in.”
“Yeah . . .”
“And he tried to grab the stream.”
“Yeah, and I was like, no no no. And grabbed his hand. But, you know, it’s painful to stop mid-stream.”
“‘Cause it’s not for me, you know.”
“Well, we have different . . . situations, don’t we?”
“So anyway, he saw all the bubbles and decided to stick his hand in, and I was like, no no no!”
“So then, he thought this was so funny, and tried to put his hand with his other hand, and I was like, no no no!”
“And then, I was washing his hands in the sink, and he thought this was the funniest thing ever, to wash his hands under the water.”
“I mean, it’s very hard to control things under those circumstances, mid-stream.”
“You do what you can.”
“OK, but I’m still not clear on how that led to the toilet safety thing being taken off.”
“Oh, no, that was a totally different disaster, in the middle of the night. No, that’s not for Twitter. You can’t write about that one.”
*If you’re wondering if I put a number in the title to make my post seem more appealing, as if by magic, well, then, you’re quite the clever one, aren’t you?