Parenting

The Potty Mummy

A few days ago, Smartypants was leisurely getting ready for school. As departure time approached, I realized she'd been going to the bathroom -- as far as I could reckon -- a LONG time.

I knocked on the bathroom door.  "Everything okay in there?"

No answer.

"Everything okay in there?"

After more silence, I opened the door.  Smartypants looked up at me and said, "I can't reach the toilet paper."

The irony of her statement cannot be fully appreciated here. What you can't see but must imagine is an entire roll of toilet paper (some 600 double-ply sheets) wrapped around Smartypants' head and body in loose layers while she sat perched on the toilet seat. I forced myself not to scan the room for signs of Egyptian priests rattling off religious incantations and carving hieroglyphs of Osires into the vanity.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I told you.  I can't reach the toilet paper."

When realization finally overcame me, I laughed long and loud. Seems Smartypants found a new roll of toilet paper on the floor and wanted to use it, but she dropped it and only managed to catch the loose end. She vanely tried to pull the roll back to her, to lift it off the floor, but all that did was unwrap the roll further, until she somehow managed to wrap it around her body. I suspect, at that point, she began to have fun and continued this little game intentionally until I arrived. But the situation's humor is not at all lessened by that fact.

Beware, all would-be bathroom robbers in search of gold, for the curse of the Potty Mummy is very real.

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