Being a writer with a toddler is a career with unimaginable pitfalls. I, like all writers, have a tendency to get lost in my work. I learned the hard way that this is a real job hazard.
I sat at my computer one morning working on a chapter of my book. Man, was I on a roll. Words flowed effortlessly from my fingers into the computer. I could hear kid shows somewhere in the nether reaches of my mind. I could also hear the pings and singing of toys as Max played in the living room. Or so I thought.
Lost in my work, I wrote like the wind. Max was obviously entertained in there, so I wasn’t worried. At least, I wasn’t until I heard those two words that can strike fear into the heart of the toughtest of moms: “Uh oh.”
Pulling myself out of Colonial America and back into the real world, I jumped up to see what warranted the ‘uh oh.’ I was not at all prepared for what I found.
Max was standing in the bathroom looking into the toilet shaking her head muttering incoherently to herself. I peered in and found the problem. It was terrible. On the surface was a toy microhone and a sippy cup on top of a layer of pull ups. The diapers had worked their super-absorbant magic and soaked up all of the water in the bowl.
I had no choice. I had to go in. Taking a deep breath and thanking the good lord that I had just cleaned the bathroom, I reached in and started pulling things out. Out came the microphone. Then, the sippy cup. Trash that. Next the pull ups. Six of them. Then, finally, the pièce de résistance, Cheerios. A whole bowl of them. And since the pull ups had absorbed the water, I was left with wholesome soggy little whole grain O’s stuck to the sides of the bowl.
Tentatively, I flush. In a woosh of water, the remnants of Max’s potty experiment washed down the pipes. (Guess she let me know pretty clearly what she thought of potty training.).
So was the crime the toilet full of stuff, or my losing myself in my work? Not sure. The jury is still out on that one.