Photo by: Shutterstock

Plunged into Despair

by Bea of "Peanut Butter Hair"
Photo by: Shutterstock

"MOMMY!

“What?”

“The potty is RAINING!!!” my three year-old little girl screeched from behind a closed bathroom door.

Flinging the door open, a rush of water came pouring out, with Lauren Elizabeth jumping over me to escape.

WHAT HAPPENED?” I shouted, as I tried to get the toilet to stop.

“I don’t know!" her little voice screamed in horror, as she ran away.

Lauren Elizabeth had been in there forever and I suddenly realized that she “really” had to go. Not only was the toilet pouring water out in abundance, please use your imagination to figure out what else was coming with it.

Trying to stop myself from gagging, I reached around to the back of the commode to find the silver knobby thingy to shut the water supply off.

I was covered. My feet, sweat pants, t-shirt…everything was soaked in poopy water. Even though I stopped it at the source, water was still pouring over and covering the floor. The bathroom was flooded and the hall outside the bathroom was beginning to flood, too. I jumped up, pulled my pants up over my knees, and hopped over to the closet to get some old towels.

Bringing them back, I was able to fully assess the situation. It was everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

Throwing the towels down to try and stop it from spreading, I ran to get some more. Eventually, everything was soaked up.

At that point, I squatted down and…completely “lost it.” I cried, and when I went to put my face in my hands, I cried some more because they were covered in poopy water.

Finally, I got myself up, found a full bottle of antibacterial floor cleaner, and poured it over every square inch. I didn’t dilute it, just poured it straight on the hardwood floor. At that point, I didn’t even care. Getting new towels and wetting the floor to clean everything up was about as good as it was going to get.

Gravity must have kicked in because the water eventually went down in the toilet. A few hours later, I was able to plunge everything out. Disgusting.

When all was said and done, I asked Lauren Elizabeth to show me how much toilet paper she used. She began to wrap it around her little fist, so much that it looked like she had a boxing glove on.

“You can’t do that, okay Baby Girl?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

When Adam came home from work at the end of the day, he walked in and said, “Wow, the house smells really good. It smells like…lemons. Why is that?”

I shook my head and replied, “You don’t even want to know. How was your day?”

Walking into the kitchen, he casually tossed his keys on the counter and said, “Kind of crappy. How about yours?”

To this day, he still gets confused when sometimes I just can’t stop laughing.

Bea lives in North Carolina with her husband Adam and children Christian (8), Ethan (7), Preston (4) and Lauren Elizabeth (3). Read more amazing stories by Bea at Peanut Butter Hair.

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