lurking in your bathroom...

It’s time to get real about toilet paper. And I don’t mean like those dumb commercials about ‘getting real’ in the bathroom and pudgy bears with specks of paper on their bottoms either. “OUR paper is soft without being TOO soft.” “Oh yeah? Well OUR paper does the job better, and won’t leave you feeling like you just dremmel-ed your arse!”

Seriously. Do people actually REALLY study these things? Can toilet paper actually be too soft?

Personally, these matters do not concern me. What concerns me is the volume of toilet paper that is consumed in this household. I simply cannot understand how our little family of 3 potty-users (2 of which are male) can go through a roll of toilet paper every 3 days. WHERE DOES IT GO???????

My first thought was that Grayson was eating it. Come on! The kid eats just about anything else. But, he’s not allowed unsupervised in the bathroom 1). Because he will likely eat the potty paper, and 2). He thinks the potty itself is a kiddie-pool.

I briefly toyed with the notion that maybe Max and Erma had learned how to use the toilet, but one look out the back door busted that myth.....

...which leads me to the OBVIOUS conclusion: Potty-paper Gnomes. A distant relative of the Under-pants Gnome, the Potty-Paper Gnome  thrives in the bathrooms of families with small children. This crafty little bugger feeds off the TP roll, causing unsuspecting mothers to question their sanity and monthly budget. There is no cure or ‘icide’ to rid your home of these parasites, however, I am told they will eventually move on once your children learn that they do not need to wipe themselves 24 times per visit.

BEWARE THE POTTY-PAPER GNOME!!!

Some privacy, please?

Yesterday was a lazy day. We didn’t get dressed, we didn’t do much of anything. Such days are few and far between in our house. So we enjoy them when we can.

I apologize if this may be TMI, but this blog is about the odd happenings in my family, so deal with it.

After a huge omelet for ‘brunch’ my belly was feeling a little off. Taking the advice I always give Gavin when he complains of such (and because you all know what can happen during pregnancy) I headed upstairs to the private seclusion that is supposed to be my bathroom.

Less than 2 minutes later I hear footsteps up the stairs, followed by “Mom?”

Me: (sighing) “yes?”

Gavin: “What are you doing?”

Thump…..a little body landing in a seated position right beside the door….

Me: “Going to the bathroom”

Gavin: “No you’re not, you’re reading a magazine” …followed by… “Are you reading a magazine because its taking too long?”

Me: “something like that”

Gavin: “I hear you texting”

Me, in a text to Brady: your son will not let me potty in peace.

Brady: Is he upstairs?

Me: He is camped right outside the bathroom door. Listening to every move.

Brady: Wow. He needs a new hobby.

Me: He has a hobby…following me.

Brady: He needs a NEW hobby.

(several minutes pass)

Me: “Gavin? Are you still there?”

Gavin: “yes”

Me: “what are you doing?”

Gavin: “Waiting for you”

Sigh. One of these days I will miss him following me. Right now I would just like some privacy.