When I went to sleep last night, the house was tidy, as it’s been the last few days. There was a plan of action for the next few days, food planned out, ingredients in the fridge, a shopping list ready to go, washing caught up on. Plans made, moods were good, The X files was on the telly. The children weren’t too bad at sleep time and things seemed to progress smoothly through the night.
Then this morning, chaos came to visit. BoomBoom got up and went to the loo early. Toddler boy got up after him. Usually the door is locked because of toddler boy but once he’s asleep I usually unlock it in case Toria or BoomBoom need to go toilet in the night. Big mistake. Biiiiig mistake. Huge.
Toddler boy – in his true form of little monster – blocked the toilet. He shoved an entire roll of tissue down there. He pressed the flush button. Again.. again.. again.. again.. Pressy-press-press! Ooh we like pushing buttons! Press it again.. And again.. And again.. And again!… You get the idea. He flushed it. Many, many times. Lots. Many many lots many, even. (High five for awesomeness if you get that reference)
This was 7am. I know this because my alarm went off at 7am. I turned it to snooze… And was out of bed and running up the stairs at 7.05am. In 5 minutes toddler boy had destroyed the house. The bathroom was flooded, the toilet was overflowing and water was rushing out the pipe. Of course it’s not as simple as a flooded bathroom – the water travelled, as water does. Under the bath.. Where it’s never been sealed… Down the lovely, truly handy, sloped ceiling, all the way down the stairs. Cue the hallway flooded in two places and the kitchen too. The smoke alarm was dripping water and the new plaster is now wet. And we can’t use any of the lights while we wait for the water to dry. Brilliant!
So. Our morning was somewhat rushed and somewhat panicky and somewhat – No, completely – mad. However it’s all sorted now and the 5 other children all got to school before time and with nary a complaint between them. Go figure.
This is my cautionary tale. If your son or daughter resembles Houdini or an escape artist in any way, and can climb over/under/around/magic themselves or anyone else/use curtains as a ladder/figure out the easiest route of escape from any room or indeed playpen/baby gate/screen door you put them in or near/climb up a bunk bed or a fridge or a sheer wall.. get a lock for their bedroom door. And use it, lest your house be flooded also.