As a courtesy to you, I cleaned the toilet bowl before photographing, because I'm
OCD classy like that. Ahem.
For this week's mess, I could talk about the toddler running with scissors, or him walking around with my eyebrow brush sticking out of his ear. There were even a few juice box spills down the stairs, and a full-glass of iced tea spilled on my freshly mopped kitchen floor. However, I settled on our toilet dilemmas.
(Please excuse our laundry. It happens to be great fun throwing it down the stairs).
Sunday, the toilet seat pinched my heiney...and Monday morning, it was a full-blown arse avalanche. Before coffee. Yes, that's right, I was sitting on it when it broke. Which made me feel really skinny and awesome.
This is the second time I will have replaced this stupid toilet seat. Let me tell you, they do not run cheap in Germany, either. On my last trip to the States I saw a similar model, at a local megastore for the low, low price of $17.99. Daddy War-Bucks and I were afraid that the toilet specs may be different in Europe, so we did not purchase, and mail it back to ourselves in Deutschland. Instead, I paid 28 Euro - which works out to be about $45. Something tells me that my kids slamming the toilet seat down is the reason we need to keep replacing the suckers. This time I will buy plastic. Perhaps the models that trap coins or sand dollars in crystal clear resin. I will keep you posted on this riveting development.
Speaking of toilets - my son recently saw a bidet for the first time at a friends' haus. He proclaimed it to be his most favorite-est toilet he has ever seen in his life. Imagine if I let him give it a whirl. He may have never wanted to leave.
Another potty dilemma in our haus...MY BOY CAN'T AIM. My bathroom always smells like pee. It must be cleaned daily, to keep me from going over the edge. Lysol clean-up wipes have become my new best friend. Once, he was urinating all over the the back of the toilet lid, saying, "Look Mom, I'm painting". Boys, will be boys. Sometimes that means peeing in the waste basket.
My Preschooler turned 4 this week. The very next day, I took him to get his 4 year old vaccinations. Not because I am on top of life like that, but b/c I am desperate to get the kids into Hourly Care, on base for the respite given to me by good old Uncle Sam. Shots must be up-to-date. Well, let's just say, WANTED TO DIE, is an understatement of how embarrassed I felt about what I am going to lay on you. The medic asked that we pull his pants down to his knees, so that they could inject shots in each thigh. Well, low & behold...a poop stain, on the front, side of his little Sponge Bob Square Pants undies. In plain sight, not to be missed by either of the people vaccinating my lovely child. Not even going to delve into how it got there in the first place. Note to self - before anymore injections, ever, I will make my offspring don a fresh pair of undergarments. This too, I shall pass onto my friends, as a sort of public service announcement.
Oh dear. As I was typing this, he waltzed into the kitchen wearing 9 pairs of underwear...all on top of one another. Too priceless to not share:
The spider web pair are boxers that he creatively fashioned into a bandeau.