Tag Archives: toilet

My bathroom buddy

Ladies Restroom sign from a New Brunswick gas station

So yeah…I knew having a baby would change me. That things I’d previously never contemplated doing would become commonplace. You know, things like wiping someone else’s nose (with or without a tissue), cleaning someone else’s ears, cleaning up someone else’s poops, getting peed on, and eating random bits of that someone else’s meal that they’ve either just splattered on me (it’s so much easier to just lick it off your hand or arm than get up and go to the sink – obviously, I’m very lazy) or haven’t finished.

Not that I’d do these things with or for just anyone. Of course it’s only for my Boo that I’ll do any of it (I can just imagine the reaction I’d have if my husband asked me to pick his nose for him).

As Boo has gotten more mobile, the more concessions I’ve had to make. One day I realized that I had a permanent bathroom companion.* He’d follow me in, and sometimes even shut the door to give us a little more “privacy” (so considerate). At first I thought it wasn’t going to be a problem – there’ve always been lots of interesting items to be pulled out of the drawers to keep the little man busy. He’s a particular fan of the pink calamine lotion bottle. He’s also taken it upon himself to be the official toilet lid closer and toilet bowl flusher (such a helpful little guy).

Until one day last week when that just wasn’t enough. He didn’t care what was in the drawers. He’d already pulled the shower curtain aside and thrown a whole pile of random stuff into the tub. And he’d already shut the door so he was stuck with me.

And me? I was stuck on the toilet, if you catch my drift.

So when my little man started freaking out and came to find comfort from me? What else was I to do? I picked him up and did my business with my toddler sitting on my lap.**

I guess there’s a first time for everything….I’m willing to bet it’s not the last time, either.

Sigh.

* I should note that if someone else is home and I happen to shut the door with, God forbid, Boo excluded from my bathroom trip, I get to do my business to the accompaniment of wailing and crying and knocking on the door.

** I should also note that (thankfully!) once he’d calmed down and I put him down, he allowed me to wipe up unencumbered.

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