January 18, 2012
Emily is sitting beside me right now.
At this minute.
Her question: are you blogging about me and how I'm going to be 18?
No.
Not yet.
Give me a couple more days of enjoying her before she becomes an "official", "legal" adult.
At least she isn't old enough to buy liquor.
In New Brunswick, anyway.
And she'd better not think that driving to Quebec is an option.
The bathroom is Jasper's wonderland.
Working in the early morning hours, yesterday, I hear all sorts of commotion and calamity in the bathroom.
Em wanders outside of the confines of her room for her early morning ablutions.
So I send her in to do recon.
Jasper has learned how to open the bathroom cupboards.
The repository of such wonders as creams and lotions, soaps and scents, rubbing alcohol and melatonin, shampoos and conditioners. . . .
Personal lady products.
Apparently, ob tampons are the favoured plaything of kittens and cats alike.
Em cleaned everything up.
Removed Jasper from the bathroom.
But like a dog with a bone, or a kid with candy, Jasper was not to be deterred by such amateur methods like shutting the door.
Unusually patient for a kitten, he just waits for someone, Stephen or Keith in states of sleepiness, unaware of the menace biding his time until he can return to his playland.
And he did.
Because neither Stephen or Keith was remotely concerned about the state of my plp's enough to shut the bathroom door.
They probably didn't even wonder how come the door was shut in the first place.
Hence, Jasper returned to the bathroom.
Me at work.
Everyone else who lives in this house sound asleep snug in their beds.
And Jasper with full fledged, unfettered, licence to do whatever he wanted to do in the bathroom.
Which he did.
Em wakes up first.
Finds a bathroom floor littered with detritus of the bathroom cupboard.
Tampons perched in waiting, ready to leap off the bathroom countertop.
Resting quietly on the floor, hidden in corners, afraid to come out in case of the return of Jaspzilla.
She prepares herself to settle onto the toilet seat to do her thing when she looks into the bowl and sees the not-so-fortunate members of the tampon troupe.
Three floating face down in the cold, frigid waters of the Fredericton toilet bowl.
How Jasper managed to get three tampons in the toilet is beyond me.
Especially as Emily put them inside the bathroom mirror, above the sink.
I'm thinking hidden cameras in the bathroom may reveal the mysterious methods of Jaspzilla.
Or maybe I just don't want to know.
Sharing these events with Stephen, he resolved the situation by looping elastics around the knobs on the cupboard.
Same method I used on the kids when they were little to keep them out of the poisonous products lurking the back corners of the cupboards.
Because they were my children, the upper cupboards were just as much of an enticement.
Ask Keith about his experience with an eyefull of cayenne pepper.
At the hands of Mer.
Elastics.
Good for kittens and kids.
Title Lyric: Elastic Love by Christina Aguilera
No comments:
Post a Comment