I was sitting on the couch, texting B and minding my own beeswax. Trevor was kicking my bahookey at Yahtzee at the same time.
Mabel said she had to potty and, typical of her... slightly aggressive, bullheaded attitude, she said she wanted to use the toilet upstairs. I urged her to use the potty downstairs (10 steps away). She did not listen. She is allergic to listening most of the time.
I watched her go up the steps. I allowed her continued independence; after all, she is capable of doing the entire shebang alone. I heard her little footsteps in the hall, heard her open the door and groan while she disrobed and climbed on the potty.
After a moment or two, I sent Andy up to investigate. Then came the giggles.
"Um, Mama? You need to come up here." Giggle, giggle. "Mabel made a mess!" Uh oh. If it's making Andy laugh, it's gotta be something I'm not going to appreciate.
I walked into the bathroom and Mabel was sitting on the toilet, naked. Her fat legs were flopping and hopping while she counted her purple toenails and concentrated on the task at hand. Andy was collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor.
Hmmm. At first glance, I didn't see anything. And, you moms, I can read your minds. I was looking for the poo. I didn't see anything frightening at all. Then Andy giggled again and slimed himself over to the door. Without lifting his feet.
"Mom...." giggle, giggle, snort, "Mom, Mabel got the soap out of the shower. Look!" Sluuuuurrrrp... he glided back over to the shower and pointed to the empty bottle on the floor. In the space of 20 seconds, she had nearly emptied the soap bottle on the floor of the bathroom. The floor that was still a bit moist from showers so there were some bubbles, too.
Mabel looked at me and wrinkled her nose. "I did it, Mama. I'n a mess."
Just then, Andy laughed so hard that he lost his balance and he went down in a pile of bony legs and grubby toes. I tried to help him up, but he slipped and skidded again, right into Mabel on the potty. She slipped and nearly fell in the pot. It was like a cartoon, Andy running in place and getting nowhere. Mabel stuck down in the toilet hole, reaching for her life.
I kept my grip on the door handle (and reality, somehow) and rescued Andy while simultaneously helping him to wipe his feet. Mabel was still stuck in the pot, hollering. I told her to stay put and found a towel on the floor (Quelle surprise! A towel on the floor after a shower? Oh the luck!) that was already wet. I strategically wiped the floor with the towel and my left foot, while keeping my balance in a dry spot. It was very slickery. I flipped the towel over and did it again. And again. And again with a second towel (two lazy boys = two towels on the floor). And again.
Mabel was still hollering. And telling me what to do. "Cween it, Mama. Get it up. Dey's some over there," she said, pointing.
Finally, the floor was safe for walking. I reached down to loosen Mabel from the toilet, only to watch her slip back down in.
Hmmm. At first glance, I didn't see anything. Upon closer inspection, however, I discovered why she was so slippery. Seems she got herself naked before squeezing out the soap all over the floor. Then she sat herself in it, and snailed across the bathroom floor a few times.
She extended her hands and I lifted her up. Then SHWOOP she slipped back down. Soap slime covered her bottom. It was all up her back, too. I had to give her an emergency bath right then. So, I stood her up in the tub, rinsed her, and then reached for... nothing. Of course, that's right! My towels were in a heap outside the door, soaked with soap.
There you have it. Just a regular night around here. Is it awful that I was writing this post in my head from the moment I discovered the crime scene?