Two years ago we finally put a bathtub in our cozy little bunkhouse on the range. I was thrilled. It did, however, require some training on the part of my boy child regarding the sloshing and squishing of water onto the bathroom floor. Apparently the lessons finally took. And I guess I should have considered it a victory the day he called me into the bathroom and said, "Here, Mommy."
And he handed me a fresh turd.
I screeched something like, "Why did you poop in the bathtub when the toilet is
right there?"
"I didn't want to get the floor wet."
*
Around about that same time we went on a day trip to Lake McDonald. For more on that, check out
Spontaneous Confusion.
3 comments:
ROF,L! Thanks a lot. I just snorted tea out my nose.
Oh good lord! BRAWAHAHAHAHAHA
I think you got your message across a little too well!
Yes, we have encountered those bathtub surprises. And I wish I could say it was because they didn't want to wet the floor, but I think they were just young and comfortable.
We just got back from the nine-member family vacation in Yellowstone. Getting all of us anywhere was like moving an army. Actually, not that efficient. More like an army of cats. Cats with ADD. That's why we NEVER split up.
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