Picture this
Tonight while I was changing a poopy diaper the dog started barfing on the rug in the boy's room. I finished with the diaper change and then threw another diaper on the puke to stop the dog from eating the evidence.
I put the boy in his pajamas and went into the bathroom to dump the contents of the first diaper into the toilet (still using cloth) with the dog and baby in tow. I dashed to grab something to clean the rug and left the boy and dog in the bathroom. There is a toilet lock, there is no poison. Just a roll of toilet paper. I'm sure you can see where this is going.
I hurriedly cleaned up while listenining to Spencer giggle and stomp. I imagined what he was up to, but what do you do? I walked out of his room and had to step over the toilet paper ribbon that crossed the hall. I then followed the trail as it draped over the eames chair and rested on the ottoman. From there it rounded another chair and reached into the dining room. Spencer and the dog were sitting at the base of his highchair, each shredding their own little pile of white quilted goodness.
I had two observations.
1. There's no bathroom-related activity that would require the strength of our current toilet paper.
2. I miss my husband when he is out of town and admire women who chose to take parenting on alone.
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