My second job: bathroom attendant

If there’s one thing that gets me about living in a house with three boys, it’s that I seem to be the only male capable of actually placing bathroom tissues on a holder. I suppose I should be thankful that the boys actually get a new roll when the old one runs out, but it’s maddening to have to search the bathroom for the new one when the time arises.

I mean seriously, they’ll put the bloody thing anywhere. On top of the toilet tank, on the vanity, on the shelf near the lavatory, on the clothes hamper or even (shudder) on the floor next to the facilities. (If you don’t know why that’s enough to make a full grown man shudder, you’ve never cleaned a restroom used primarily by pre-teen boys.)

And while they are good enough to get a new roll when needed, they aren’t always as good about making sure that the used-up tube finds its way into the trash.  These formerly useful cardboard tubes can be found strewed across the floor, in the bathtub or (even more violens shudders) being used as a “helosope” or as a horn for our four year old son. (Ack! I don’t know where that thing has been. Get it away from your MOUTH!!!)

There are days when I wish a demonstration like the following would work:

But then, they are boys and Pre-teens. so I doubt that that demonstration would stick with them for long.  Their minds are in other places, like plans to burn down my kitchen roasting marshmallows over an open gas flame or bungee jumping from the second story window into a mud puddle.

Such is life.

Peace. I’m out.

Tagged as: boys, frustrations, general madness, kids, life, toilet paper, TP