So I walked into the bathroom the other day and noticed that the toilet paper roll holder was missing. Immediately I went to find the Two-Year-Old.
I found him sitting on the couch, relaxing.
"Do you know where the toilet paper roll holder is, Greggory?"
Without taking his eyes off of the t.v., he shrugged and said, "I flushed it."
Matter-of-factly. No remorse there.
This fact was confirmed by a sudden wailing coming from the bathroom: Roman. Trying to flush his...business...down. It just wouldn't. Funny how a little thing like a toilet paper roll holder will cause such a ruckus.
At this point, I decided to join Greggory on the couch, very innocently, and wait.
Weston walks into the bathroom to help Roman. A slight pause followed. Then an outburst of Mormon swear words. A question, directed at me. (At least I assume it was directed at me.)
"Where's the toilet paper roll holder!!!" I guess it wasn't really as much an inquiry as it was a statement? Or a demand?
"Um, Greggory said he flushed it."
More Mormon swear words. And muttering as he walks into our room and comes out with a sort of fishing contraption made of hanger wire. You know, hangers really deserve much more credit than they receive. They are so useful for all sorts of things. But that's another post.
Greggory and I follow him into the bathroom for curious observation.
"Are you fishing, Daddy?" The Two-Year-Old asks in perfect innocence. (I truly think that children are born with the "innocence voice/look" as a defense mechanism to enhance their survival.)
"You're lucky." Was all he said.
11 hours ago