The Candy Bowl
Like yesterday when I went into the bathroom. I discovered, much to my chagrin, a sticky pink lump stuck to the floor beside the toilet. It was some kind of chewy candy - a Starburst or something - that someone had apparently decided they didn't like. (Why it was beside the toilet is beyond me, but you never know where you might find a nasty surprise in my house.) I figured since I was going to flush in a minute anyway, I may as well just toss it into the bowl. So I did that, then peed, flushed, and walked out of the bathroom, not looking back.
A bit later, Curtis went to pee and he was all, "Honey? Is this ... candy stuck to the inside of the toilet?"
I explained the situation, adding that I had thought it would go down when I flushed. Curtis shrugged and decided to try to dislodge it with a stream of pee. (Oh, to have the ability to aim!) But no such luck. "I'm sure it'll go down when I flush," he said with a shrug. So he flushed. And then like me, a few minutes earlier, he left without checking.
Fast-forward a few more minutes: we were getting ready to leave the house, so I told the kids to go pee first. Cameron went into the bathroom. I heard him peeing. There was a brief pause. And then he came out ....
I got a sick feeling. "Uh, Cameron? What's in your mouth?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Candy," he said, opening his mouth to show me.
It was pink.
OMG. "Did you get that ... out of the toilet?"
He nodded. And then swallowed.
Oh yes he did.
The child ate candy that had been chewed up, spit onto the bathroom floor, tossed into the toilet, peed on not once, not twice, but three times by three different people, and marinated in toilet water for at least a half-hour.
Cameron eats paper. I'm used to that. But most paper isn't, you know, soaked in piss and festering with a bazillion raging germs.
If he doesn't outgrow this, no one is ever going to want to kiss him ...