Something scary lives in the toilet...

Or at least that is what my children think. Apparently it only surfaces when they flush.

The most obvious solution then, was for them to never flush. Ever. Eventually though, they began to tire of their mother constantly singing an uplifting chorus of "I don't like to see your pee!!", so an alternative plan was devised. I call it the flush n' flee. After using the bathroom, the kids open the door in to the hallway (or at least Jordan does.. this step isn't necessary for the twins, since the door is normally already open. Sam doesn't even close the door in public places...). Then, they clear the bathroom of any possible obstructions that could interfere with their hasty retreat, tip toe back in, flush and run full speed out of the bathroom.. I think the goal is to be gone before the flush really gets started... that way, the toilet monster can't actually get them, and they themselves can't fall in and join their unmentionables on a swirling ride into the unknown.

It isn't just our toilets at home. When we're out and about and using a public restroom, which we do all the time because Lucy NEVER has to go until we get somewhere.. normally somewhere with very small, or very dirty bathrooms, where I have to use enormous patience and brain power to keep all four children from touching or licking anything, and keep Henry from picking up hair off the bathroom floor because so help me, it is all YUCKY and it might just kill you... when we go the these wonderful establishments, Lucy won't flush, and won't let me flush until she is out of the stall. Apparently the water rushing public toilet monster is much larger and much scarier than the one at home. I try to use this as motivation to NOT use the bathroom at all, but it doesn't work. My mother, at this point is probably chuckling with a smugness only allowed from the woman that took ME to every single public restroom ever made when I was little. I used to think she was exaggerating when she said I really did have to use every bathroom ever created. Sorry Mom.

In other news, last night I was trying to convince Sam to eat his fruit salad. He didn't want it. I told him he needed fruit to grow big and strong and be healthy. He said, "Mommy, it's not like those pears and apples are the last fruits in the world." He patted me on the hand as if to reassure me. "I'll be fine!"

How do I argue with that?