Down the Drain

Sunday morning both boys were full of vim and vigor, running in circles through the house, giggling. I left them alone because they were getting along, but I soon found out what was causing all the chaos. According to Jake, they had flushed a 'zombie rocket' down the toilet. I tried to get him to explain what a zombie rocket was. No luck. Sam did his best to describe it. It took me awhile, but I soon realized they had flushed an unused tampon down the toilet.

"From now on, nothing but pee and poop go in the toilet."

"What about toilet paper?"

"Yes, and toilet paper."

"What about other kinds of paper?"

"No, only toilet paper."

"What about vomit? Can vomit go in the toilet?"

"Yes, pee, poop and vomit."

"Rocks? Can rocks go in the toilet?"

For whatever reason I have always imagined my kids more rational and logical than they probably are. Occasionally there are reminders that, yes, Jake is only 3 years old. And Sam, despite his lanky body and big feet, is always seconds from running into a busy street or jumping off the roof of the car. For the most part I assumed we had emerged unscathed from the curious daredevil phase. But I'm beginning to realize it's not that we have emerged from it, it is that we have not yet entered it.