Subject: A Morning at the Piddle Parlor
Date: 20 Oct 1998 00:00:00 GMT
From: email@example.com (Mumthra)
Organization: RadixNet Internet Services
[I wrote this sometime last week and forgotted all about it]
Our most trafficked bathroom is about five feet square, which is
plenty of room for one person to navigate safely, or at least I think
it would be, if I'd ever been in there alone.
This morning I was helping Spunky spell the finishing touches on her
newest portrait of Sparky. It was a outstanding in its detail and
inclusion of huge orange hands.
As Sparky thumped into the bathroom, I was spelling s-o-m-e-b-o-d-y
for Spunky. Then Sparky called out for help with the tissue. They
change more tissue rolls than I do, and it pleases me out of all
proportion, since it is one of the very few examples of compassion in
action. I had to wonder then, what sort of "help" she needed.
I walked in and closed the door. She had struggled a new package of 24
rolls out from under the sink, but couldn't tear the wrapping from it.
I gave it a try, and had just about freed a new roll for her when a
piece of paper flew under the door and skittered against my feet.
"Mail's here!" yelled Spunky. "Getcher MAIL!!"
I picked it up and read it to Sparky, "From Love Somebody," and handed
it over. The door slammed open, fortunately missing my toes.
"Do you know who it is?" enthused Spunky. "It's YOU, Sparky! Your mail
is a picture of you!" The baby crawled into the room. "Hey, Bo, c'mon
in with us!" Baby Bo stood up and made her patented frantic panting
noise and slammed the door shut. "Whoa. I fink I smell a poopy
I opened the cabinet under the sink so that I could put the 23
remaining rolls away, but Bo dove into the cabinet before I could
maneuver them into storage. Spunky closed the cabinet.
When Bo didn't complain, I said, "At least we can't smell her so much
"I fink I need a drink," declared Spunky. She dove for the sink,
bumpin me and Sparky and causing the new roll of tissue to fly into
the air, hit the tile rolling and unfurl a few feet.
Nobody thought to ask for a bandaid, and we weren't visited by a
manicurist, a nurse, or a repairman, but we would have let them right
in if they'd knocked.