Thweety Day
I woke up yesterday morning to find Marge standing at the bedroom doorway, looking utterly defeated.
In her left hand, a roll of toilet paper.
In her right hand, another roll of toilet paper minus the toilet paper. aka just the cardboard tube.
Hmmm...
Normally I would attempt to guess.
In hindsight, there may have been several witty remarks that I could have made, but my brain was still booting up.
So I just asked "What happened?"
She stared at me with helpless eyes and whimpered something about Lisa and Maggie.
"Huh?", I offered intelligently.
"The girls were playing in the toilet."
She held up the paperless tube.
"They unrolled the whole thing and tried to flush it. All of it!"
She held up the other roll.
"And they already started on this one when I caught them..."
It took me a while to comprehend the magnitude of this senseless act.
Did they think it was funny? In the dunny?
Had Marge not intervened, how many rolls would we have lost? Five? Ten? Ten thousand?!
All those sheets - just wasted... down the drain... without fulfilling their purpose.
So much potential to touch so many backsides...
I sat up and looked out beyond the hallway - to add some creepiness to the moment.
I imagined Lisa and Maggie cackling to themselves as they danced around the wee-wee and poo-poo chair...
Epilogue:
Once upon a time, a vacant toilet could have its door left open, as an invitation to those who needed relief.
Not anymore. The world has changed. We have been forced to become more vigilant.
In years to come, when my grandchildren come running to me, jumping up and down:
"Homer, why do you need to lock the toilet door when there's nobody inside?! I'm busting to go!!!"
I can calmly sit them on my lap and tell them about Thweety Day *.
And the atrocity committed on Thwee T's:
Toilet Tissue Tuesday.
(* Also so named because Maggie has finally found a soft toy companion to carry around everywhere.
A cute Tweety Bird that she grabs by its scrawny neck, leaving the oversized yellow head hanging limply.
Very adorable.)
In her left hand, a roll of toilet paper.
In her right hand, another roll of toilet paper minus the toilet paper. aka just the cardboard tube.
Hmmm...
Normally I would attempt to guess.
In hindsight, there may have been several witty remarks that I could have made, but my brain was still booting up.
So I just asked "What happened?"
She stared at me with helpless eyes and whimpered something about Lisa and Maggie.
"Huh?", I offered intelligently.
"The girls were playing in the toilet."
She held up the paperless tube.
"They unrolled the whole thing and tried to flush it. All of it!"
She held up the other roll.
"And they already started on this one when I caught them..."
It took me a while to comprehend the magnitude of this senseless act.
Did they think it was funny? In the dunny?
Had Marge not intervened, how many rolls would we have lost? Five? Ten? Ten thousand?!
All those sheets - just wasted... down the drain... without fulfilling their purpose.
So much potential to touch so many backsides...
I sat up and looked out beyond the hallway - to add some creepiness to the moment.
I imagined Lisa and Maggie cackling to themselves as they danced around the wee-wee and poo-poo chair...
Epilogue:
Once upon a time, a vacant toilet could have its door left open, as an invitation to those who needed relief.
Not anymore. The world has changed. We have been forced to become more vigilant.
In years to come, when my grandchildren come running to me, jumping up and down:
"Homer, why do you need to lock the toilet door when there's nobody inside?! I'm busting to go!!!"
I can calmly sit them on my lap and tell them about Thweety Day *.
And the atrocity committed on Thwee T's:
Toilet Tissue Tuesday.
(* Also so named because Maggie has finally found a soft toy companion to carry around everywhere.
A cute Tweety Bird that she grabs by its scrawny neck, leaving the oversized yellow head hanging limply.
Very adorable.)
posted by Homer K at
4:04 am
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