Sunday, January 30, 2011
The Sweet Bathroom Do-Boy
She's been calling her brother Sweetie. "Come here Sweetie." "I'll help you Sweetie." "Come to the bathroom with me Sweetie."
Wait, WHAT? Why on Earth would she want Sweetie to come to the bathroom with her? The kid is hardly potty trained. A week of dry Pull-ups is not a resume highlight of a good Commode Assistant.
So I listen intently from the next room as I hear her sing-songing several sentences in her best saccharine voice.
Then I hear it: "Justin Sweetie, can you get me some toilet paper?"
What to do...Should I get him out of there or savor the 60 seconds that he isn't whining about something?
Then I hear it (yes, the second thing I hear from the other room): clink, clank, clink, clink - that was a sound effect.
"Oh no, Justin. I just dropped my bracelet in the potty!!!"
Surely she won't ask him to fetch it for her, but then again what's to stop her?
"Hahaha! It's touching the poopie!"
So there I go, bolting from my comfy office seat into the bathroom next door to see her with her pants around her ankles and Justin holding all of her belongings.
Quick action must be taken. I've got two choices here: Just put my own hand in the toilet to get the bracelet out RIGHT NOW or leave to get some kind of bracelet-retrieving-apparatus and risk her doing a Jedi mind trick on her brother to get him to salvage it for her Titanic style before I can get back. That can't go well.
So I just finished washing my hands and they're back to their playing. For the record, it wasn't touching the poopie.