“Who just went to the loo?!” I yelled out.
The bathroom was a pigsty!
Actually, that’s not entirely true. For once all the dirty clothes were in the wash basket and Tracey must have been the last person to brush her teeth because there weren’t sticky little piles of toothpaste spit around the sink. But…
…there was an empty toilet roll sitting on the vanity.
I. Hate. This.
I don’t understand the difficulty in moving a simple, cardboard cylinder from the bathroom to the bin under the sink after you pull up your pants and flush. It’s six meters. Tops.
But no one gets it!
A chorus of voices went up and Miss5 was quickly dobbed in.
“Come in here,” I told her.
Anyone with kids knows there’s no point in doing it for them because they never learn. Anyone who knows my kids knows there’s very little point in getting them to do it because they still don’t seem to get it – but we keep trying.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said, stopping in the door and looking up at me.
“Did you go to the toilet?”
“Did you change the roll?”
“Yeah. It went empty.”
The scene was set. I went for the big finale.
“So where,” I asked her pointedly, “are you supposed to put the empty roll when you finish on the toilet?”
And this is where I sort of lost control of the conversation.
“In my collection!” she exclaimed, grabbing the roll and racing off before I had a chance to ask what collection.
But Tracey had an even more poignant question, because our house isn’t very big.
“I wonder where the hell she’s hoarding them?” And we both had visions of discovering a rats nest of rubbish under a couch one day.
Only I didn’t wonder very long. I was just happy the damn empty roll was off our vanity!
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~ raising a family on little more than laughs ~