Yes, this is a picture of my daughter, wearing hand-me-down boy-pajamas, hugging a toilet. How, you ask, did I come to have a picture of my daughter, wearing hand-me-down boy-pajamas, hugging a toilet?
I blame the size of the house.
Our house is the smallest one in our neighborhood. Twelve hundred square feet, three bedrooms, two bathrooms. Don't misunderstand, I am not complaining. I love this house. Its is a sufficient blessing, and we are happy to have it. I also know, that by world-wide standards, I live in a mansion. With clean running water and electricity. Refrigerator, gas stove, central heat and air, flushing toilets (like the one my daughter is hugging). In several countries, I am a queen. I appreciate this bounty.
My guests, however, may not share my world view. And, they must use the children's bathroom. I do my best to keep it visitor-friendly. No urine on the toilet, no toothpaste in the sink. It may be a low standard, but it is higher than it could be.
To this end, I have worked with the children, to use a paper towel to wipe their face, and then the sink, after they brush their teeth. "Make sure all the blue is gone," I tell them. Then go throw the paper towel in the garbage.
Cate has become very good at this. But, when she started, she was inclined to toss the paper towel in the toilet. "No, no," I told her. "We don't throw paper towels in the toilet. They make the toilet sick." She was upset at this. She did not want to make the toilet sick. She's very sweet that way.
So now, after she throws the paper towel in the trash can, she leans over and hugs the toilet. "I yuv my potty," she says. Everyday.
That is how I came to have a picture of my daughter, wearing hand-me-down boy-pajamas, hugging a toilet.