Trapped in the Bathroom

“Oh, no.” 

The brown roll sat smugly, flaunting its emptiness.  I was....a bit indisposed, having just finished...um, powdering my nose.  I reached for the toilet paper to wipe, uh, the excess powder off my face.  With a jolt of horror,  I realized it was empty. Again..  I fumed to myself, “Can't anyone else in this house change a roll of toilet paper?  Does it require advanced intelligence or maybe just the absence of the “Y” chromosome?” 

My two-year-old pounded on the door.  “Mommy?  Mommy?  All done, you come out now.” 

“I'll be out in a minute, Jamie.”

“No, now.  All done.  You get my cwayons, okay?”

“In a minute.”

I heard a sigh and a thump.  “I sit.  I wait.”

Now back to business.  Okay, the spare roll under the sink.  I grumbled, “Whose bright idea was it to put the sink and the toilet on opposite sides of the bathroom?”  I had no choice.  I stood up and bunny-hopped across the room.  I almost made it before my denim-entangled ankles caused me to lose my balance, but I caught myself on the edge of the sink in the nick of time.  Phew.

“Saved!” I crowed as I reached under the cabinet for my item of salvation.  My hand closed on empty air.  Someone had forgotten to replace the spare roll.  “Damn!”  I suddenly remember the little ears outside the door.  “Er, dams sure are great homes for beavers!”

Silence.  Then, “Mommy, you okay?”

Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into my head.  “Jamie, can you please go to the downstairs bathroom and bring me up another roll of toilet paper?”  I knew there was one roll left downstairs.  I needed to go shopping soon.

“Yep, Mommy.  I go.”

“Thanks!  You are an angel!”  I cried gratefully.  I hopped back to the toilet, sat and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Are you coming back?”  I hollered.  “Jamie?” Silence.  Great.  I'd been deserted.  Elmo must have more pull than grumpy-mom-stuck-in-the-bathroom.  I sighed.  Now what? 

I pulled off my pants.  I'd have to go to the downstairs bathroom myself.  I glanced down at my sweater, black socks, and naked backside.  Attractive, I thought sarcastically.

I tiptoed down the hall.  I knew nobody was home except a two-year-old, but still, this was embarrassing.  Finally, I approached the living room.  Elmo was blaring, but Jamie was nowhere in sight. 

“Jamie?”

“In bathwoom, Mommy.”  Huh.  He didn't forget about me after all.

I still had to cross the living room.  Why had I wanted the big bay window?  I could dash really fast and hope no one happened to pass by.  Right.  With the way things were going, I was not going to risk it

I settled for crawling , scootching my half-naked body across the floor in a military-like maneuver.  I was really, really, glad I'd changed my mind on the floor-to-ceiling mirrors I'd considered.  It was bad enough imagining what I looked like.  And waving it through the air was making my backside cold.

“Come, Mommy.  I make you suh-pwise!”  Uh-oh.

I fearfully stepped into the bathroom.  Jamie was up to his elbows in in soapy water, dunking a cylindrical blob.  “See!  I make it awww clean!”  He held up the dripping object.

The last roll of toilet paper.