ABQ mom and I were IMing yesterday about our bathroom ventures and decided that we would storm the blogging community with our toilet stories, you know, flush them out, per say. ABQ wrote about her toilet story yesterday, so today it is my turn, an expose of the sordid doings of our household toilet.
I was hoping I could blame all of our toilet woes on my parent’s house, where we currently live while they are out serving missions and gallivanting across the country side, saying that a curse was laid upon the house when the squirrel died in the toilet. But to no avail, I am afraid our toilet woes start long before we ever got to this house. In fact, I think we can blame it on genetics. Yup ladies and gentlemen, our children were born of a toilet drinker. Oh? What’s that you say? Me? How could you think such a thing! I was much too much a little lady to ever consider drinking from the toilet. You raise your eyebrows? Ok, maybe the little lady part was a little too much. Truth be told, it never crossed my mind to refresh myself of the cool clear water in the porcelain throne, though I might have tried to sail a boat across the stormy sea once, not really sure. No, it was my darling husband who was the toilet drinker of the family. (I wonder if he’ll read this one . . . hee hee hee)
I have come to the conclusion that the drinking of toilet water alters ones genes in such away that they are passed on to the children who inherit this toilet savviness. Let’s just say that I have become an expert with the plunger. If I were to ever attend a jousting tournament I would use the plunger as my weapon choice. Those things can do serious damage I hear, suck your face right off! If I were Little John I would not need a yew cudgeling, not with my trusty plunger! All the pirates upon the stormy seas would fear the “Plunging Pirate!” and the ninjas would . . (ok, going a little too far here?) You get the point. I put plumbers out of business with my plunger saviness. heh.
The girls have mainly been toilet paper stuffers. Each one of them has tried to see just how much toilet paper fits into a toilet bowl and how many flushes they need to get rid of it. It is quite the scientific experiment, and a great lesson in math and physics I am sure. Though one daughter (and I bet you know who) has tried the experiment multiple times, she likes to test her theory before coming to any outstanding conclusions.
She once tried the theory of gravity and flush ability with her toothbrush, and watched in dismay as it settled beneath the water surface, just out of sight. Worried that mommy would be mad that she dropped her toothbrush in the toilet she decided to flush it. This was the one time my plunging failed me. Though we did manage to make the toilet last a little longer by plunging toilet paper past the toothbrush blockage, we finally had to buy a new toilet. Which was good, because upon removal we found that the girls had been trying to flush the toilet paper tubes down the toilet as well! Hopefully, we can avoid anymore such gravity experiments.
Elizabeth however decided to stand on the edge of the toilet in order to wash her hands. Did she close the lid before doing so? Of course not! She was rather dismayed when she proved the theory that Moms might just know what they are talking about when her foot slipped and she plunged into the toilet. I have found that human plungers do not work as well as the conventional kind.
Now, Jacob, he is the one however that has caught Paul’s gene to the strongest degree. I think a father to son combination is the most potent passage of the toilet gene. Should the bathroom door be left open and the toilet lid be left up (heaven forbid!) you will surely find Jacob perusing the mysteries of the said porcelain throne, trying to discover the treasure that it beholds. I have found him happily splashing, amazed at the arc of the droplets flying through the air. His finest occasion to the date was his resourcefulness at brushing his teeth. He could not reach the sink, way to short for that, but he could dip his toothbrush into the toilet bowl! Now, those are some impressive problem solving skills there people. I’m pretty sure that I caught the toothbrush before it ever entered his mouth, but one can never be to sure.
So if you see a strange woman walking down the street wielding a plunger, you can be assured that it is I masquerading as my other secret identity, “The Plunger Avenger.”