Toddler Terrorism

I want to share something special with you. This is the story that started it all. The original Toddler Terrorism. There's just one thing about it.

I didn't write it.

That's right. My blog's catchy title? I may have forgotten to mention this, but I didn't come up with it.

My husband did.

And now he's insisted I confess that - and share the story he wrote. So, without further ado, I give you the original

Toddler Terrorism

by Daddy

Does anyone else have a toddler who does things like this? This morning I took my daughter into her room to get her ready to sit on the potty, shutting the door behind me to keep my son from following us in and pulling all of her clean clothes out of the laundry basket. After removing her (already disgusting) diaper (and wondering why she still needed to sit on the potty) and heading toward the door, I discovered something was missing. Something important. Namely, the doorknob. It's a type that requires tightening with an allen wrench, and had been loose for several weeks while I was too busy to retrieve said allen wrench from the downstairs workshop. Apparently my daughter had found time to remove it this morning when she wasn't strewing the contents of a new box of diapers all over the room. So now I am trapped in a bedroom with my naked-from-the-waist-down toddler (she needed to sit on the potty, remember?) who is now prancing around the room and singing Veggie tunes.

"Where's the doorknob?" I asked my daughter. Silence. Also a look that clearly says, "I have no idea what you're talking about but will try to humor you anyway."

"Do you remember where you put it?" Pause. "No." Sigh.

At this point, with my focus largely on finding the doorknob/getting us out of the room, I somehow FORGET that I have a half-naked toddler who needs to potty in the room with me. Continuing the search, I discover a decent-sized puddle right next to the laundry basket that I am pretty sure had not been there previously.

"Did you pee on the floor?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do that?"

"Oops."

Here we paused in our search for the missing doorknob to clean up the pee puddle........ Having cleaned up the pee, the search continues without success. I try other options. How about putting two books around the doorknob stem to gain some leverage? No dice. Same result with everything else I try. I call my wife to advise her of the situation and my plans to deal with it. She is not amused. Time to dial 911.

"Mom? I have a small problem." My mother is incredulous that I have managed to lock myself in a room with a toddler while my 10-month old son is enjoying the rest of the house to himself. She agrees to come over and release us.

In a last ditch effort to save my ailing mother a trip over, I start digging through the folded laundry to see if my daughter could possibly have stowed the $%)!! doorknob in the basket. Lo and behold, with a loud THUNK the thing comes plopping out of the laundry onto the hardwood. We are saved. I phone Mom with the good news and turn my attention to the half-naked toddler.

"Are you ready to sit on the potty?"

"I want some apple juice."

"Of course you do." Ain't kids great?