In retrospect, it makes perfect sense.
I can actually follow the logic of every event. It’s just together – it seems kinda silly.
It all starts with the fact that our toilet doesn’t get flushed in the night. Social convention dictates that if you get up to pee in the night, you leave the toilet unflushed until everyone’s up in the morning. No sense in waking the house for a #1.
Which brings us to this morning. Jake got up first and commandeered the television so he could play Mario Kart 8.
Point of order: Gabe and Liv were snuggled into Gabe’s bed together, watching Netflix on Liv’s Kindle Fire. Neither child had any intention of challenging Jake for control of the TV.
Jake had to pee. Most people pee upon waking. Not Jake. He’ll run and plant his flag on whatever he needs in the morning BEFORE tending to his more basic bodily functions. Using this logic, it makes perfect sense that he would BRING THE REMOTE with him to the bathroom to pee. This way, no one could swoop in behind him and change his channel. Once there, only Jake would try to manage shorts, penis, and remote control – rather than setting the remote down on the vanity.
Inevitably, he dropped the TV remote into the urine/toilet paper filled bowl. To his credit, he fished it out on his own – quickly. He kept this fact to himself, likely realizing that I wouldn’t be happy to hear about it.
After I got up to start my day, opting to pee FIRST, I flushed the toilet and started the shower. While I was safely in the shower, Jake seized the opportunity to visit with Mom and confess. He hopped into bed with Beth and their conversation went something like….
“Mom, guess what? I dropped the TV remote in the toilet.”
“I got it out; but I couldn’t get the batteries. It was gross!”
“Where is it now?”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Go wash your hands right now!”
“I can’t. Dad’s in the bathroom.”
“Go to the kitchen sink.”
So when I get out of the shower and get dressed, I head downstairs for some breakfast, only to find Beth dumping the remainder of our rice into a large bowl containing our TV remote. I get the scoop.
Jake comes running into the kitchen from upstairs and says to me, accusingly, “Daddy flushed the batteries! Daddy was WRONG!”
Do you see what he did? He took his indiscretion and turned it into my wrongdoing. He may qualify as “intellectually impaired,” but he’s pretty damn crafty if you ask me.
When I turned on him, not really surprised by much anymore, he clasped his hands together in front of him in supplication and pleaded, “Don’t be mad at me! It was an accident!”
Does anyone know where I can get a replacement Samsung TV remote? The rice didn’t work.