I never dreamed it would be so, but I am now part of large club.
The "My Kid Played in the Toilet" club.
And I assure you, she has been firmly scrubbed within an inch of her life.
I used to think that such a thing would never happen to me, that my canny combination of general supervision and concise explanation would make it clear that hands never, ever go in the toilet. When Chlorox finally figured it out and started making those 2-foot-long toilet brushes, i'm sure they made a mint. Because no one should *want* to put their hands in the toilet. UGH.
Except 2 year olds. Because their entire existence is spurred by curiosity. Just like cats, who also like to play in the toilet. Constant indoor water source. Right there. Perfect. UGH.
She's on the brink of potty training, was an inch away from going the whole day without a diaper, and then, SPLASH, she's potty diving. And I can't do anything about it because i'm trapped under a hungry baby. So it's either diapers, or trust her alone in the bathroom. One costs more monetarily, one costs more mentally and hygienically. UGH.
So, for those of you who are watching me smugly and laughing as I stumble into the pitfalls of parenthood against my will (STINE!), my child has now drawn all over the wall with a pencil, eaten a chocolate chip cookie, publically identified an obese person in her outside voice, and played in the toilet.
You can still place your bets on public screaming temper tantrums, sipping a beer, and losing her at the mall.