If you sprinkle...

(I hope the reader (use of the singular is intentional) will forgive a PG-13 digression from the recent run on Pastor Search Committee information.)

The past several weeks, the bathroom that each of the three kids share has smelled. It’s smelled like a men’s locker room. Actually it’s smelled more like a men’s restroom. Specifically, it’s smelled of urine. With a large crack running down the side of the toilet,Kadie and I resigned ourselves to getting a plumber to come out and repair the crack before the raw smell drives the kids crazy.

With that background, Scooter came to me a few days ago and said “Dad, Squealer tinkled on the bathroom seat. You should talk to him about it.”

I sat there silently for a moment and digested this information. Then I somewhat sheepishly replied (with hands held out in supplication):

“Scooter, who among us can possibly cast the first stone at that transgression? I mean, to expect any male in general and a five year old boy in particular to carefully raise the seat every time he...” But she quickly interrupted.

“No, Dad, you don’t understand. He had the seat up! “

My mind turned slowly as I processed this new information. It did not compute, so I inquired further. “But Scooter, how could he urinate on the bathroom seat if it’s up?”

“Dad, he peed on the bottom of the upraised seat!!!”

We were both a little surprised that she used the term “pee”. She’s normally sensitive to the appropriateness of her language. In her defense, however, her brother pushed her over the edge in this instance.

A quick conversation with Squealer revealed the truth of his big sister’s outburst. He had been raising the lid of the toilet, then urinating in a slow circle around its underside, like a meticulous firefighter extinguishing a ring of fire from the circus.

After an extensive conversation, he’s resolved not to repeat the behavior.