I miss pooping alone. It’s like this for me now:
[SCENE] The kids are playing quietly and Leo is napping, and the moment has seized me so I seize the moment. As soon as I sit on the toilet, Rocco shows up like a crow at your picnic.
Rocco: Hi, Mom.
R: Are you pooping?
Me: Yes, yes I am.
R: Can I be the flusher?!! [wedges himself between me, the bathtub, and the back of the toilet to get a better view]
R: Ooo, nice poop, Mom! Should I flush it now? [starts pushing down the handle]
Me: No! Stop! I’m not done yet!
R: Why, Mom? Why are you not done?
R: Now are you done going?
Me: Not really.
Me: Okay, I guess I am then. [begin wiping]
R: [FLUSH!] HEY IT’S NOT FLUSHING! MOM IT’S NOT FLUSHING! IT WON’T FLUSH! WAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
Me: Settle down, Rocco. You have to wait for it to fill up. And besides, I’m not done wiping.
R: That’s a lot of TP, Mom.
Me: I know. I know it is.
R: Why did you put a nursing pad in the toilet, Mom?
Me: That’s not a nursing pad, it’s a hemorrhoid pad.
Vincenzo: Hi, Mom. Will you read this book to me?