"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."---Mark Twain

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Toothpaste And Toilet Paper

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I contracted some sort of virus.        At first I was afraid that we would die.        By lunch, I was afraid that we wouldn't.


It reminded me about another time when The Plague hit.        Fortunately, I had posted about it on The Stream (moment of silence, please) because if you combine toothpaste with disease, it makes for one Hell of a day.

When I woke up that memorable morning, like most people, I had to run for the bathroom.          The human bladder will only hold so much for so long.

Rounding the corner to the potty, I found my husband, on his knees, locked in a lover's embrace with the commode.         And he was NOT whispering "sweet nothings" to it.
        I didn't have the time to inquire about this, and he didn't seem to be up for a game 20 Questions, so I ran to my daughters bathroom, figuring that she was still in bed.      I grabbed the doorknob......and got a handful of toothpaste.         From the doorknob.          A handful!

By now, I am in full distress, so I don't give a rip in Hades about WHY I have a hand full of toothpaste.       I'll sort it out later----I just need to pee!

Princess is on her throne.       I apologize while I dance from foot to foot, and in a weak voice she begs for toilet paper.        She has run out during the night.       She's not going anywhere either.

Back down to the other end of the trailer I go, and this piece of porcelain still has a man wrapped around it, so I can give that one up; he was gonna be there a while.

It's amazing how long a house-trailer actually is when you are in a hurry to get to the toilet!       Who knew I had that much space in a single-wide mobile home????

I grabbed a new roll--I had re-upped on t.p., thank goodness-- and now I'm hauling tail (and a full bladder) back to my daughter.

I will confess that I threw the roll at her, not in any sort of anger, just urgency.      And I told her to PLEEEAAASE alert me when she is finished.

Of course, I got another handful of toothpaste from the doorknob.

If you position yourself half-way between two bathrooms, you can run like a rabbit for the first one that flushes.        My teeth were floating by now!       And I had a lot of toothpaste on my nightgown.

 Youngest got finished first, and when I made for that bathroom, I grabbed the doorknob again.     Yep, toothpaste.         How many times do you have to grab a doorknob to get the toothpaste off of it???       Who the heck knows?         At least three times, by my count, although results may vary.

I made it without an accident.       When I left the bathroom I took hold of the other side of the doorknob to open the bathroom door.....

I didn't even have to tell you by now, you've probably guessed...........MORE !@#$*&^ TOOTHPASTE!

A stomach virus explained my husband's and daughter's problems.      So I can handle that.      But the toothpaste?

That would be my oldest daughter, who I call Middlest because she is the "middle" child.

When Youngest went for a day trip to another town 30 minutes away, she and her boyfriend ran afoul of a parade.       While trying to get around the parade route and find a particular store, they got lost.       Totally lost.         Hopelessly lost.

Rather than call me and T-Bird or his folks for directions, or stop to ask anyone else, they called Middlest on her cell phone.       They didn't want me to know that they were lost, but they didn't know that Middlest was at my house, so I found out anyway.

Middlest tried to help them via cell phone, but they can't find their butts with both hands and a flashlight.       And a sister looking at MapQuest on the computer and telling them where to turn ain't helping either.       It would have been okay, but the Moron Twins got the silly-giggles, and I guess their brains shut down.        So I kept my granddaughters while my daughter and her husband went to find them and guide them back home.

Youngest and her boyfriend went to his parent's house when they made it back, and Middlest and son-in-law came here to pick up the babies.

This is where the toothpaste comes in.       To "get even" with Youngest for giggling at her while she is trying to get them home, and causing her to drive over heck-and-half-of-Georgia late at night to retrieve her and her boyfriend, this daughter squirted toothpaste on her sisters' doorknobs.

On Youngest's end of this trailer she has a bedroom and a bathroom.       The bathroom has two doors; one opens to her bedroom, the other opens into the hall.      Six doorknobs in all, and Middlest is a very thorough-type person---she got all six knobs.

 Youngest can be grateful that I was out of Vaseline, and that her sister didn't think to smear the toilet seat with the stuff.

I've gotta have a talk with these kids.

1 comment:

  1. I've gotta have a talk with these kids.

    I know the feeling, both my 17 year-old son and 10 year-old daughter have been driving me crazy lately. It goes deeper than that, especally with my son who was taking care of the house while the rest of us were on vacation and somehow allowed my dog to die.

    Long story short I love my kids but the prospect of an empty nest here at the house a few years down the road sound awful nice right now.