My husband jokes that our son has a standard childhood disaster checklist that Tiny just rolls through one incident at a time. Chin split open? Check. Mooned the children in the cafeteria? Check. Drew on walls? Check. Tonight, it's the toilet. Again.
The last time Tiny Man assaulted the toilet's dignity, it was with Littlest Pet Shops. They were small enough to flush away and not be a problem. Tonight, however, he has managed to flush soap down the toilet--two bars because obviously one could never be enough. One bar was the size of a hockey puck, the other the size of a half-brick. Foolishly, I went to the downstairs potty in hopes of actually using it, but lucky me saw the absence of soap first. Thoughts ran through my head. No, I thought, not possible. I called my son.
"Yes," he said earnestly, "I flushee soap."
"Both?" I was aghast.
"Yeah. Boff soap."
I sent him to bed without a story or a song and began flushing and plunging. Finally and sorrowfully, I retreated to the wisdom of the web and found a helpful string of posts about this same dilemma. I have been laughing so hard there are tears. The link is posted here. Click, read, and just wait till you get to the one about the cornish hen. What people do, how they say it, and even what they don't say-- funny.