Pee, First in the Series

Today I attempted to shower uninterrupted by babies, children, cats, ducks, and husbands, okay, only one husband. After 30 seconds of glorious aloneness, a little voice came crying closer and closer. After the familiar pop of the lock on the outer side of the door, my 7 year old came in loud and clear. Her brother had peed into the miniature bucket of sidewalk chalk shaped gum the Easter bunny had brought her. Cue the baby to tottle in carrying it. After dumping the wreckage of gum and pee on the floor, he disappeared. I barked orders to the oldest through an all too thin shower curtain, they should really be modeled after the hatches off of Star Trek that slide shut with that delicious whoosh. Although, come to think of it, I might never come out again if that were the case.

Back to the pee. I told the 7 year old to cover the pile with toilet paper and I would handle it in a moment. I showered like I always do, 5 minutes of haste. I wrapped up in a towel, scooped up gum and pee in one swoop and deposited it into the toilet with a flush. The water treatment people really must have stories to tell. I traveled through the house to the kitchen to relay the story to hubby. His response was dismay accompanied by noticeably slower chewning. He informed me that my story explained why the gum the baby gave him tasted like ass.

Thank you, 5 year old with the adventuresome bladder.