Poo in the Toilet… Among Other Things

There are, of course, many things that one discovers along the way of being a parent. One discovery I was not prepared for was the amount of times I would find unflushed poo in the toilet left behind by our resident poop bandit. It is a disgusting and dirty little secret that those of us with young children share. Each ‘discovery’ is a slightly disturbing event but it is dealt with quickly and without too much drama.  I  shake my head, yell out to anyone who might be listening that “there’s poo in the toilet again” and carry on to better things…which is just about anything.

To compound the problem, I have more than one poop bandit on the loose.  I have brought each of the suspects into the bathroom to try and shame with them with the evidence.  But they don’t fall for it.  They quickly try and transfer the blame to their sibling in an attempt to divert the focus off of them. As they’re running out the door, I’m yelling after them, “Well if you’re not flushing the toilet, what else aren’t you doing?” I cringe at the thought.

My laissez-faire attitude about poo in the toilet has had me scrambling on more than a few occasions. My attempt at creating a beautiful atmosphere in my home can quickly become undone upon a guest excusing themselves to the bathroom. A shot of fear runs through me as I remember that I forgot to do a last minute check.  I try to read their expression when they come back. Have they found us out? Do they think we’re gross? It’s like a public shaming and I can’t even defend myself because I’m too afraid to know the truth.

And poo in the toilet is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s as if my kids are conspiring against me in my efforts to project the image I work so hard for.  Our guests might also find an empty toilet paper roll and/or no hand towel. Or maybe there is a hand towel but it’s visibly dirty and damp and in a heap on the floor.  Books are tattered and torn and board games are missing pieces. There are pen marks on our beautiful butcher block and the list goes on and on.  There are even things that I’m too ashamed to ever write about. It’s not that I don’t care about our things. I do care. I care a lot. But my will has been worn down and poo in the toilet, soiled lines and unwashed hands seem quite normal at this point.

Then there are the glorious moments when you realize that it could be worse and actually is at someone else’s house. I was wrapping up a nice visit with a good friend one day when I excused myself to the loo. I must say I was shocked (and relieved) at the sight of poo in the toilet at someone else’s house.  Without flushing (I should have) I left and went to another bathroom. To my surprise I had come upon more poo in the toilet.  This was precedent setting. I have stumbled upon a lot of unfinished business before but two? Never.  “Oh for God’s sake,” was all I heard from the other room. She was a comrade in the trenches in the war to restore order.

When I finally composed myself, I thanked my friend for a good laugh and the comfort in knowing that the poop bandit strikes (sometimes often) in other homes too.  I left satisfied in the reassurance that the goings on in my house are going on in other people’s house as well.  Before having kids, I never would have guessed that this would be the natural order of things. I probably would have even judged. Now, I’m off to set a trap to try and catch the poop bandit in the act!