There are two bathrooms in my home. One is Cheyenne’s and the other is mine. In both these bathrooms we store extra toilet paper under the cabinet. I try and always keep a couple of rolls under the cabinet – mostly I have four or more under there. When Cheyenne runs out of toilet paper she grabs a couple of rolls from under my bathroom cabinet.
This morning, at the most inopportune time, I realized that the toilet paper roll in my bathroom was empty. I also discovered that Cheyenne had confiscated all the rolls I had under the cabinet. I was not pleased with this discovery. Thankfully, I had just replaced the tissue box that had been empty for a week with a new one the day before. I groaned loudly from the bathroom, “CHEYENNE – YOU TOOK ALL THE TOILET PAPER.” Cheyenne said, “Oh…sorry mom.”
Only a handful of minutes later while taking a shower I realized that there was no shampoo in the shower. As soon as I recognized it was missing in action I knew where it was – in Cheyenne’s shower. This time in my state of frustration I let out a loud angst-filled moan that sounded like a wounded moose. It was the natural expression of frustration from a mom who knew in that moment that this was the inevitable reality of her life. The sound said it all – pitiful, defeated, and irritated all rolled into one horribly tortured sound.
I had to wash my hair with body wash. It felt wrong. I felt wronged.
When I got out of the shower and opened the bathroom door a roll of toilet paper and bottle of shampoo were sitting by the door. Clearly my wounded moose sound had quite the effect. I am making note of that – it may come in handy in the future. Apparently my wounded moose moan was more than pitiful, defeated, and irritated…apparently it was also foreboading and frightening.
Well, if you take your mama’s bathroom necessities what do you expect?
Day one thousand and fifty-two of the new forty – obla di obla da