“So have you fixed your bathroom door yet?” I remember my mom asking a few weeks ago. The old fashioned knob keeps falling off and the
best easiest solution we’ve come up with is taking the knob off and storing it on the window sill. (Be ye warned: if you use the bathroom at our house, don’t shut the door too tightly or you will be stuck. And the bathroom is probably the most boring room in the house to be stuck in.)
“Nah. Not yet.”I blithely replied.
“You know you really should or someday Theodore is going to make his way in there and start unrolling the toilet paper.”
Several times a day, Babytidian goes to visit his friend, the bath tub. So whenever I see him tub bound, I usually try to give him a few minutes to exchange pleasantries with said tub before scooping him up to a more supervised area of the house. Yesterday afternoon, I realized that not only had it been a bit more than a few minutes since I’d seen his tushie wriggling down the hallway, but there was a lack of the usual genial tub chatter.
In typical mama fashion, I feared the worst. It’s how every made-for-tv movie begins, right? A normal day slips and bleeds into tragedy. So, ironically, I was quite relieved when I bounded into the bathroom and found this sight: