That is not what a toilet is for

I am finally done with about a month and 1/2 of on and off holidays which have left me feeling tired and bloated (too much food and too much overtime with children who were off of school). I can now officially concentrate on this blogging deal. While I have yet to officially introduce Ate, the little prince in the house, I do have a story that describes his obvious "boy" qualities to a tee.

Today a friend of mine visited with three of her four kids. Her first three are all girls and the same ages as mine respectively, 6, 4, and 2. All six kids disappeared to the basement while my friend and I caught up on some meaningful conversation (gossip) up in the family room. At some point, while we were deep in meaningful conversation (gossip), the 4 older kids returned to the family room and were probably there a good ten minutes before I realized that the two 2 year olds were not amongst them. Realizing it was way to quiet for any good to be occurring, I sent So back to the basement to retrieve the missing toddlers. All four of the older kids ran to find them only to return empty handed, stating "we called out there names again and again but there is no answer". Not what any mother wants to hear. So I sent the kids upstairs to try their quest for the toddlers there (you think at this point I would get off my lazy backside to search for two missing toddlers myself). At this time, four kids come running down the stairs, "Ate and Estie are playing with toilet water".

You've never seen two grown women bolt from a very comfortable sofa so quickly. I was sure I would find one of them tipped into the toilet, arms flailing. I couldn't imagine having to explain how I let a child drown in the toilet. I know I am not the only mother who's very first thought centers on morbidity. Right ladies?

What we found were two giggling children, drenched in toilet water. My son's arms were still swooping water across the walls and ceiling as we approached and there was no sign of guilt or remorse on his chubby little face. The toilet paper roll and tissue box - soaked. Their hair and every inch of their clothing - drenched. Frankly, I am surprised I did not find them sitting inside the toilet. I asked my friend if her daughter has ever done this before. I knew her reply before she answered, "no". Well she will now. It was a mess, but it was so darn cute. And thankfully, no one WAS tipped over into the toilet.

Ever see old pictures of yourself taking a bath with one of your mom's friend's kid, and wonder how that came to be? Well this is how it comes to be. Ate and Estie first got bathed in toilet water, and then scrubbed down in a bath of fresh water and all the anti-bacterial soaps one can imagine, if only we could have used bleach. Oh, the joys of a two year old boy and his obsession with toilet water. Ate has, since he's been born, kept me on my toes more than So and Ro have combined. It might be because he is a boy, but it may be, because he is, Ate. To know for sure, an impending blog will dissect this curious phenomenon we call "Ate".