a fitting end

FYI: This is the third post today. That's never good.

After we came home and put Andy's coat in the washing machine (see "scarred for life..."), it was time for Andy's afternoon nap. He hadn't been changed in hours and I was absolutely thrilled to see that the diaper was still dry. He was in his room playing with his Cars cars and I called him in to sit on his potty before his snooze. He brought the main character, Lightning McQueen, in with him.

Andy's doing amazingly well with his potty progress, and he was successful this time too. His favorite part of using the potty is of course flushing. So he jumped off the potty and immediately bent over, bare-assed, to watch the toilet paper swirl around and go down. Unfortunately those little fingers didn't hold onto Lightning McQueen as tightly as they should have, and though I didn't see what happened I heard an unmistakable plunk! as the toy hit the maelstrom in the bowl. I quickly dropped the diaper I was trying to put on that bare bum and peered over the rim. But it was too late. There was nothing in the bowl at all.

Andy had a frozen moment and then shouted, "I dropped Lightning McQueen! I dropped him in the potty!"

I had no idea what to do. Being an adult, I usually only flush things that are flushable. So I had no idea what was going to happen. I mostly expected the water to swirl and disappear and then when the bowl settled the car would pop out. Surely it wouldn't fit through the trap.

Alas, McQueen never reemerged. I told Andy as gently as I could that Lightning McQueen was gone. When he heard this, Andy let out the most sorrowful noise I've ever heard him make. It was heartbreaking. It was a squeal of utter, agonizing pain.

I carried him into his room and we rocked in his chair for a while and Andy sobbed on my chest. Every 30 seconds he looked up at me with his tear-stained face and asked if Lightning McQueen was coming back, and every time I told him that the car was gone. And then he made the wounded-animal squeal again and sobbed some more.

I finally told him I'd call the plumber and see what they could do. In truth, I don't give two hoots about Lightning McQueen - he's easily replacable - but I give a serious hoot about my plumbing system. We once spent $300 to have the toilet removed and the pipes searched because there was a clog. Turned out to be a paper clip. So if a paper clip cost $300, I shudder to think what a toy car would cost me.

So anyway, I put Andy down for his nap and told him the plumber was coming. And then on the baby monitor I could hear him bawling and telling himself, "Mommy is going to call the plumber. Lightning McQueen is gone. I flushed him down the potty!" It was so pitiful.

To wrap up the story, the plumber came within a few hours and Andy immediately told him all about McQueen's ride on the porcelain bus. He snaked the trap in the toilet and found that McQueen was not stuck in there. So, the odds are that he's well on his way to the sewage treatment plant. Andy was so interested in the pipe snake that the misery ceased. The plumber and I laughed heartily about Lightning McQueen sleeping with the fishes, and I told Andy we'd go get another one.

So I suppose that the moral of the story is: don't let your toddler hold a toy while they use the potty. Also, this entry may not seem so funny to me in a week when I get the plumber's invoice...