...and now the rest of the story...

First, I hope all fared well through Sandy and a quick recovery for those still going through the challenges.

.....so....."the bunny" (formerly known as chef) with tissue wad still encased in derriere decides to do a little dance.  Seems appropriate. 

I wait, patiently, for about 7 seconds before proceeding to encourage her to wipe her damn behind and move this process along.  I just thought the word "damn" didn't say it and tried not to express it in my tone.

Unfazed by my prodding, she takes her time bringing her dance to a halt and reaches back to grab the tissue.

Here we go........

It's, of course, soiled and looking a little tired.  Probably wondering if its predecessors normally spent so much time.....wait, am I really being anthropomorphic with poo-poo toilet tissue?

Acting reminder: Don't stifle your own creativity.  If your mind wanders into strange territory, why squash and judge it?  What glorious (albeit disgusting) ephiphany might you have?

Julia looks at the abused wad and proceeds to "fly" it over top the toilet seat.  In a delightful, fairy-like, squeal she makes the tissue cry, "Oh, nooooooooo, Mommy, Daddy, save me........ahhhhhhh.......the tornado!"

Acting reminder footnote 1:  Now, see.

Unfortunately, I do revert to mommy mode.  Some of these acting lessons, admittedly, come in hindsight.  I do believe my inner clown was holding mommy mode back a bit (S.C. Jr. for those of you who have met her but forgot her name) because I didn't lose it completely.  "Juliaaaaaa..."  I offer a melodic, half-amused, warning.

I was to lose it soon.

She switched from a bad, natural disaster movie to basketball.  She missed the shot.

"Julia that is it!" My tirade included very important life lessons like:   "Wiping your butt is serious.  It's not a game." and "The bathroom is not a playground."  The aforementioned S.C. Jr. wept a bit.

But, Julia didn't.  She turned her back to me.  Very seriously and incredibly slowly gathered another piece of toilet tissue.  Very seriously and incredibly slowly wiped her behind and put it in the toilet.

I almost drew blood from my lip to keep from laughing.

Acting reminder:  You know how mad you get when a playwright has a character go from furious to giddy in a split second because real people don't do that?  whoops.

Luckily, I had just enough time to pull it together.  Julia turns to face me.  Remember now, I'm sitting on the edge of the tub so we are eye to eye.  Now, also nose to nose because she leans in.....seriously and slowly....and says, "You make me so unhappy."  My face is trembling.

She continues..."I am so unhappy for you."  "FOR!" Why did she have to use the wrong preposition!?!?!?!  Face trembling, I was still holding it together but the "FOR" sent me over the edge.  I guffawed.  I guffawed hard.

Acting reminder:  try to remember what this joy is like.

But there's one last bit to the story.......

Acting reminder from Julia:  learn how to ride the laughter.  When you know you've got the last killer comedic line still coming that's gonna slay them.... hold through their guffaws....wait for it....wait for it....then deliver it clearly, concisely and with all the serious intent in the world you can muster:

"Mommy. Go. Have. A. Time. Out."