Alex is getting back on track with the potty training, but is insisting on always having a toy with him to play with while on the toilet. Ok fine. John does Sudoku, I read Time magazine, Alex needs matchbox cars. He finishes pooping, stands up to look in the toilet at what he did, then promptly throws his car into the toilet. The car floats down to rest on a big juicy turd.
Alex is laughing hysterically. I am simultaneously pissed, disgusted and faced with a decision. Do I reach in and grab the car? Do I flush it down and hope it doesn't compromise our plumbing? Both options are completely unacceptable to me, but I have to choose. I grabbed the car. John can never accuse me of not being serious about our financial goals, because I put my entire hand into a toilet filled with someone elses poop in order to save us a potentially expensive plumbing problem. I then scrubbed my hands and arms up to my elbows until they hurt then threw the car away because it will never, EVER be clean enough again.
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