I’ve been running defense against the toilet for weeks. Once she turned a mature one-year-old, CC decided she was going to find out what was in that thing. She’d tried pulling herself up on the toilet rim, batting the toilet lid, and even catching the stream of pee her brother was shooting into the bowl. But I had always put up a good fight and interfered in the nick of time.

What is it that is so enticing about toilets, anyway? Is it because they’re shiny? Maybe it’s the flushing sounds? The way the water swirls down the hole, taking (hopefully) everything with it (unless it is a toy car)?

I had my back turned for fifteen seconds. Long enough to toss some dirty clothes in the general direction of the hamper (or at least where it was before Little Man decided to jump in it and try to roll down the hall in it). We were in the bathroom, getting ready for bath time.  

I like bath time because: Kids are contained, I get to sit down for fifteen minutes, if I close the bathroom door I can ignore the pile of dishes in the kitchen, and the kids come out smelling nice and are not sticky (for once).  

The problem with bath time is: Water is not contained (dinosaurs and rubber ducks apparently like to ride big waves), CC insists this is the best place to learn to stand (and fall), and I realize the bathroom really needs to be cleaned. Especially the toilet.

And now we’re back to the toilet. Sure, sometimes the dogs drink out of it. Which is silly, since they have perfectly clean water downstairs. But they’re dogs. They eat linoleum, underwear, and cat poop (gross). So maybe toilet water isn’t that far a step down for them.

But, my own daughter?

I had just helped Little Man into the tub. I bent down, picked up the dirty clothes, when I heard “Oh! Oh! Oh! MommylookitwhatCC what CC did!” and then hysterical giggling.

When I heard the happy splashing sounds, I knew she had won. There she was, both fat little arms entirely in the toilet, playing with the water. She looked up when I yelled “No!” and raised her hands in the air, proudly sprinkling all of us. (Was that necessary?) Then, looking right at me, she stuck her fingers in her mouth. (These things never happen on my husband’s watch.) Once again, I won’t be winning any mother of the year awards here.

Though I have started teaching Little Man to keep the lid down.

Laura appears Mondays on TriangleMom2Mom.