Skip to main content

Not My Best Self

I got in a wrestling match with a toilet paper dispenser today.  

I know, I know.  I do more bathroom talk on here than my five-year-old at dinner.  But this blog is called the Not So Adventures, and that's all I've got for you.  Sorry.  Back to my TP story.

I was at church and was running late.  Seats in the sanctuary were quickly filling up, but I needed to...I was overhydrated and my nose was dripping.  You can't sniff your way through a sermon without freaking people out just a little.  So I ran into the bathroom and picked the nearest open stall.  Then my jacket zipper broke.  That has nothing to do with the story.  I just wanted to acknowledge it was a very frustrating period of my day.  My nose started really running, and I was desperate to blow it, so I tried to roll out some toilet paper.  The roll was jammed so tight in the dispenser, I could only turn it a 1/4 turn at a time, and I couldn't locate the end.  I'm turning and turning, thinking very unchurch like words, and my armpits are getting swampy because now I'm frustrated and really late.  I hate being late.  I finally just tore into the middle of the roll and begged some TP to come off.  I got a chunk the size of a quarter.  And then another quarter.  And another.  I briefly considered using a toilet seat cover, but determined that the absorption rate just wasn't there.  Five minutes later, I had enough quarter size chunks of TP to do something with and was finally starting to get the roll to give up its fight.  But then the toilet paper separated into two different layers. You've been there.  You know how frustrating it is.  Pull and the top layer breaks off, pull again, and the bottom layer breaks off.  Gahhhh!  It occurred to me the roll just needed to be taken outside and shot.  Except for the fact that it was stuck and not going anywhere.  I'm not a violent person.  Generally.  But I'd have shot the heck out of that TP roll today.

Then I went into the church sanctuary, sat down and learned about the nature of Jesus who, I bet, wouldn't want to shoot the toilet paper even if he did find it frustrating .  At which point, I felt very sheepish indeed.  But next time, I'm bringing Kleenex.      

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pink Stinks

Our girls, like most four-year-old girls, love pink.  And purple.  And sparkly things, unicorns, butterflies, lizards and cats.  But especially pink.  Their brothers aren't so fond of pink.  They prefer the color dirt.  I know this because it's what they have chosen for the color of our walls, windows, light switches and their socks.   "Do you like pink?"  Emerson asked Fischer one day not long ago. "No." "Why?" "Because pink stinks !" Cue 'angry tears and screaming.' This of course delighted her brother who began using the line anytime he wanted to see her cry.  Which was often.  It didn't change her passion for the color, however.  She still demanded the pink plate, pink cup, pink shirt, pink shoes, and pink gum if she had the choice.  Because pink is the best when you're four.   Fast forward a couple of weeks.  The girls were collecting pieces of garbage off the van floor.  Why?  I don't know, b...

Fear Factor

 Did you know that it has been not  scientifically proven that a baby can smell her mother's presence through a closed door.  It's probably the smell of fear that they are actually attuned to, but nonetheless.  I hold my breath and walk on tiptoe past the baby's room and still get busted nearly every time.  My fear is pungent. Besides waking the babies, I have another fear currently in the forefront of my mind.  Don't mind me, this is just another episode of True Confessions.. .  Here it is: the boys are getting so much outside time that they are building up incredible endurance.  It's great really, but it is   becoming  so hard to wear them out. It used to be an hour at the playground and we were golden.  Now, they basically put in an eight-hour workday, and it's just a warm-up!  Does anybody have a treadmill....?  Real school is going to be a bit of an adjustment for the big guy next fall.    Speaking of s...

Reflecting

It's August. I guess I can stop waiting for that call from the Oregon Department of Education.  It appears I didn't earn teacher of the year after all.  I wonder if it had something to do with my mask policy?  It definitely could have been the mask policy.   Personally, I thought the duct tape worked great.   *Sigh* It was probably the mask policy.  You win some.  You lose some.  Better luck next year.   Speaking of next year, we are trying a hybrid homeschool program.  Sawyer gets to go to school twice a week and learn at home the other days.  I'm confident he will fall in love with his teacher in the first eight minutes.  She is young, cute and very enthusiastic.  It's going to either make him work really hard or be a complete distraction.  Either way, on the "home" days, I'm going to make her look really good.  Pajama Mama is neither young nor cute and I'm rarely enthusiastic (which may have als...