The other morning as I was rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off I realized that my body was telling me to get my ass into the bathroom pronto. I dropped everything and ran. And once the door shut closed and it was too late, I realized my mistake: I didn’t look closely enough at the toilet paper roll before sitting down to make sure there were enough paper products.
Of course there wasn’t.
So I called him over sweetly and asked him to go upstairs to Mommy and Daddy’s bathroom and to please grab the toilet paper roll and bring it downstairs. He gave me an angelic grin, and excited to be doing something to help Mom, he ran off.
I waited. And waited. And waited some more. And after 2 minutes I finally wondered where my son went. “ASHE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“I SENT YOU TO GET ME TOILET PAPER.”
“OH YEAH!!!!... I FORGOT.” Of course.
Another minute goes by and he dashes down the stairs so proud of himself carrying……
One square of toilet paper. I look at his offering, ponder the situation I’m in, and shake my head.
“Ashe, hon, I need more than one square. Can you please go back upstairs and bring me the whole roll of toilet paper?”
“Oh sure!” He races off and I wait again, noticing that my butt is now beginning to fall asleep. Another minute goes by and Xavier starts bounding down the stairs, dressed in a clashing outfit that makes my eyes hurt. I figure I have one battle right now; I’m not energetic enough to take on another. Let the teacher wince every time she glances at the jarring colors. But I grab his attention and ask him to help his brother help me by bringing me some toilet paper. He races off to my upstairs bathroom and almost the moment his foot hits the master bedroom threshold I hear him shouting.
“ASHE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?????”
“I’M BRINGING TOILET PAPER FOR MOM.”
“YEAH BUT NOT THAT WAY!”
I’m too scared to look up. I mean really, it’s just too early in the morning for stuff like this. There should be a rule against shenanigans before 10AM on weekdays, and noon on weekends. But I am a mom, and it is my job to look after my children, even if I’m stuck on the pot. I glance up.
And there is Ashe, proudly marching down the stairs with a fistful of toilet paper in his hands. Trailing behind him is half a mile of toilet paper, which I guessed (correctly), was still stuck to the actual roll upstairs in my master bathroom. He stands directly in front of my with a giant grin on his face, so proud that he was able to help me in my moment of need, and tossed a mini mountain of white Cottenelle into my lap.
“Thanks, sweetie” I murmur.
“YOU’RE WELCOME MOM!” He marches off, happy that he has done his good deed for the day.