Zander, my 2 year old is potty trained, and gets bored while sitting on the pot. Occasionally, I come into the bathroom to find him, sitting, hands gripping the seat, staring down into the bowl.
"Sorry Mom. Sorry Mom. It was a-ass-i-dent! I pwa-miss. So sorry!"
It started with a full roll of toilet paper, and the bowl was clean, free of any droppings. Easily fished out, he had not yet flushed. However quick and pain free it was, I'm not super eager to plunge my hand into any toilet bowl, bagged, gloved or bare. I was not happy. He received the mini lecture as most 2 year olds would, with a "But why, Mom?".
Not fully understanding my explanation of how toilets clog he tried it again. A couple weeks later it was full bar of soap, and this time he flushed. The toilet slowed for a day and came to a screeching halt after my 8 year old son had a session on it after school. In an attempt to make it all go down my son held the lever down extra long... "Maaaaaaa-OM!"
"Dammit!" I yelled, without even thinking about the ears around me.
I begged and pleaded with the murky, rising toilet water, "Please! Come on, Please! No, no, no, NO! NO! NO!" Ew. It overflowed just enough to make me feel like the whole house was contaminated. Over the course of the next week we tried a variety of solutions; plunger, coat hanger, plumber snake, electric plumber snake, even bare hand with screwdriver. Luckily we have another toilet which was free of debris. Eventually the soap bar came free.
Next was the partial roll of T.P. He dropped it in my parents loo over our Christmas stay. Staying away from home when you have young children brings on a whole slew of emotions and obstacles. This stay was no different. A crazy 2 hours past Zander's bedtime, at least one of which had been spent "going poop", I'd had it. I called in my husband to go fish this one out.
Today, after he'd gotten completely comfy in his bed, stories read, I'd just zoned out and started to think about all I could get done in the next 55 minutes while he slept, Zander sat straight up and shouted, "Gotta go poop!" 20 minutes later, at least 10 "You done yet?" inquiries from me, he yells out, "My car is all clean. Yep, all clean and shiny!"
"Oh, shit." I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes as I head towards the stink. Full bowl, all sinkers including the matchbox car. Still seated, legs open enough for us both to see the loot, he looks up at me shakes his head. "Dammit."
No comments:
Post a Comment