Just when you thought the World was all flowery and fabulous...

We're in a fun, scary, astonishing period with regard to Maya. Full-on potty training. Maya gets the concept and we get the signs of whenever she's, um, ready to go. Up 'til now, she's been hit or miss. Increasingly hit, but ya' know how it goes. Her part-time daycare helps tremendously because of the regimented approach of making all the kids line up like a bunch of beerdrinkers during halftime at Lambeau Field. But since we've not done this before, a minor success is heralded like a major victory. Kinda like how the Bushies run the Country. Regardless, yesterday was a watershed event. Pun intended.

After picking Maya up from daycare, we were prepping for naptime when she gave me the wink-wink nudge-nudge that she had some bizness at hand. Bear in mind, we have a rather unusually-designed three-story house and we were on the top floor. So we got situated, Maya did her business (hooray!), we flushed, and headed down to the lowest level to Maya's room for a quick congratulatory call to Sarah before a few naptime stories. Fast forward a few blissful minutes and...I see water dripping down the doorframe of Maya's room. We all have those moments when we launch into Superhero mode. This was one of mine. By the time I got upstairs I'd realized that the toilet had clogged. A steady stream of water had formed a river that was doing what rivers do - run downhill. Holy. Ironic. Crap.

We're cleaned up. At least physically. Maya didn't miss a beat while I threw every towel in the neighborhood into the fray. So now I'm looking for a plumber to tell us wassup with that particular possessed head (I've seen the signs in the past). And maybe getting this story out there will somehow ease the lingering trauma. So if you've got a toilet in your house, I strongly recommend that you tell it how much you appreciate what it does. I don't expect I'll look at my own the same way for the foreseeable future.

Hope downhill runs for you apply to skiing today. Rock on.