Like Christmas, the Elf on the Shelf is supposed to be magical and exciting for children. Imagine how surprised I was this morning when I woke up to see that Zippy's magic appealed to mommies of young children everywhere. She was taking a dump alone, God love er'. Now that, friends, is a Christmas miracle if I ever saw one.
Years ago, I could be absolutely plowed downtown, be dying to break the seal, and I wouldn't be able to do it because there was someone in the next stall who might hear my pee hit the toilet water. Now, I'm pretty sure if I remember to close the stall door in a public washroom it's a pretty big courtesy. I wonder if I even can go anymore without an audience. This morning while I peed before going downstairs for the day, I had an infant, a toddler, and a freaking dog staring at me on the throne. To be able to go to the bathroom, close the door, lock it, and do whatever it was I had to do, would be nothing short of luxurious.
I'm hoping that last night when ol' Zip flew back to the North Pole, she told Santa that all I want for Christmas is five minutes to pee, and this was his sign to me that yes, Lauren, there is a Santa Claus, and you will get your Miracle on Sunset Drive. Maybe things will get crazy and I'll even get to go as soon as I have to pee, and not wait for a few hours till the baby is fed and his bum is changed, and Avery stops throwing a tantrum, and Dora is on, and all conditions will be perfect, and I can just go. We all can. Just for that one day. How magical would that be?