Of all the things in the world that I dread, and there are a lot of things that I dread, really, A LOT, one that I really dread is the call from the neighborhood kids mom. You know the call I’m talking about. The one where the mom has a concern regarding their child and something that happened to them at your house. The one where your parenting/supervisory skills are seriously being called into question. The call where you are made to feel like a TOTAL AND COMPLETE IDIOT, over something that really wasn’t your fault, only kind of your fault.
It started out innocently enough, some time last week all the neighborhood kids were over, per usual, and one of those charming children unloaded three huge logs of shit in the kids toilet and then unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper on top of it. I know you people can imagine how truly and utterly, and because I’m on a roll here people, really disgusting this was. This shit/toilet paper combo created an unflushable bomb, a kid-made beaver dam, or some other indestructible third thing, that wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.
I think this mass of paper and feces sat there for a few days before I noticed it, because I don’t use the kids bathroom very often and of course no one bothered to mention it to me. Needless to say it was RANK by the time I stumbled across it. I attempted to flush it several times with no success and then I did the only thing I can in this type of situation, I waited for Chris to get home and take care of it for me. He plunged it without complaint and only almost vomited, then he made an attempt to get to the bottom(pun totally intended) of who had made this mess. Because people, is it really necessary to use an whole roll of toilet paper to wipe your ass? I believe the child who created the bomb should have and, in fact, DID know better. Chris interrogated all the children that were present in the house at that time, but none of them would admit to doing it or knowing who did it. And with the plunging experience fresh in his mind, Chris told our kids and all the kids over here that they couldn’t play at our house for a week, because of the inappropriate use of toilet paper.
In hind sight, it was probably a knee jerk reaction, that taken out of context seems infantile and foolish. I mean really, are we those kinds of parents, the kind that ban sweet innocent children from our house over something as silly as a clogged toilet? Are we that uptight? No we are nice people, but you should have seen it, really, because it was sick and gross, and worst of all, looked INTENTIONAL! We did the only thing we could think of, we freaked out. And when I got THE call, I was immediately sorry.
Today the girl down the street came over to play, and I let her right in, having seriously forgotten all about the toilet incident and subsequent friend ban, because it happened three days ago and that is really like 2.5 days past the statute of limitations my memory has on this kind of thing. She had been here about 10 minutes when the phone rang. It was her mother. The conversation went something like this:
“Is it ok for my daughter to be playing over there right now?”
“Yes, of course.” (with genuine surprise, really)
“Because she told me she wasn’t allowed to play over there this week”
“Really?” (I almost choke on the phone that has fallen into my gaping mouth)
“Yes. Something about a clogged toilet?”
“Oh, I don’t know anything about it, maybe Chris said that.” (I start playing stupid and blaming the husband, out of sheer horror because the way she said ‘clogged toilet‘ made me feel like I was about 4 years old)
“Well, I just wanted to make sure she was okay playing over there today.”
“Yes, she is fine. I’ll have to talk to Chris about this toilet thing. Thanks.” (because of course I never communicate with my husband so I’m totally in the dark, and thank you for clueing me in, really. And CAN I DIE NOW, PLEASE.)
I guess my point to this whole story is really pretty simple: When you allow every kid in the neighborhood to play at your house, you pretty much have to expect to get some shit clogged in your toilet, and some shit on the telephone too.
