Words you don't want to hear...

"Mommy, come quick! This is not good." (It sounds so much cuter with her hispanic accent!)

I could tell by the pitch of Maria's voice and the fact that her pants were not pulled up all the way, that this could be a potential plumbing crisis. I was relieved to see that the bathroom was not flooded. Instead the little spindle that holds the toilet paper was floating in the toilet. And the water in the bowl...was yellow. To flush or not to flush? That is the question.

It's important for you to understand how our family works. Don handles all toilet emergencies at our house. Yesiree, he's one lucky man. Unfortunately for me, he's in Chicago this week. And, big surprise here, I don't like sticking my hands in toilet water. Especially toilet water with pee in it.

Case in point. When our kiddos were potty-training, I would throw their soiled underwear away rather than stick my hands into the toilet to rinse them out.

In my defense, I did try to remove a #2 from a pair of training pants...once. I gingerly held the offending article of clothing by it's waist band and slushed it around in the water while flushing at the same time. This method didn't work very well as the force of the flush tore the undies from my tentative grip and sucked them to wherever it is that toilet water goes. I called Don and asked him if our septic system could digest a pair of size 2 underoos. I heard him roll his eyes through the phone.

Tonight I had no choice. I was going in. Using only two fingers, I quickly and somewhat frantically pulled out the spindle. A little gagging ensued. With the speed and agility of an olympic athlete I rushed the infected spindle to the sink where I rinsed it, and my hands, with half a bottle of soap and scolding hot water.

Poor Maria was positively distraught that she had caused Mommy another encounter with the toilet. I think she's still a bit scarred from the stool sample episode.

Truth be told she was only trying to do what the semi-adult members of our household had been too lazy to do for themselves. Namely, put a new roll on the holder. I will never understand the aversion to replacing the empty roll with a full one. I guess the last person to benefit from actually having paper on the roll figures the absence of paper is the next person's problem. Such a thoughtful family.

As we were leaving the bathroom Maria said with all the sincerity and remorse that she could muster, "Mommy, I'm so sorry I had to let you touch my pee."

It's o.k., darlin' girl. That's what mommies are for. Apparently this now qualifies me as the "best mommy in the whole world."

Simply stated: Is it me or does my hand smell like pee?