“Mom, I clogged the toilet again.”
That should actually be the quote of the DAY in my house because it really does happen — a lot. To be fair, I can’t put all the blame on my three dudes. You see, our house, which is ten years old, was built with those annoying low-pressure toilets that are supposed to be more efficient with the amount of water they use. Or, maybe the person who built this house was just cheap and installed lame toilets. Regardless, you simply can’t keep wiping and wiping. Three, maybe four max. And, believe me, we’ve instructed the dudes again and again on how to handle the toilets: Wipe, wipe, flush. Wipe, wipe, flush. But you know, that takes extra time and when you’re in a rushed frenzy to get back to the Xbox, that directive is long forgotten.
So, we went to Plan B and told the dudes that IF they clog the toilet, they MUST tell us immediately. Because if the toilet stays clogged, very bad and ugly things can happen. And I have the plumbing repair bill to prove it.
The dudes seem to have grasped Plan B quite well. I’ll inevitably be preparing dinner, or eating, or doing something that does not mix with plunging a toilet and I’ll hear one of the dudes bellow, “Mom, I clogged the toilet!” When he says it, he almost sounds proud — not that he clogged it — but that he remembered to tell me. But still, there’s something wrong with this system. I should not have to be dealing with my boys’ poop long after their toilet training years.
Plan C is next. I’ll hand the dude a plunger, trying to conceal my smile, and say “have at it, buddy.”
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