I know I have to close the door so it clicks when I'm using the toilet in a standing position. But up until this week it's been okay to leave the door open when I'm sitting. Not anymore.
I lifted the lid and pulled my pants down. As my ass moved toward the toilet seat the sound of galloping kitten paws approached. Norbert rounded the corner at full speed and leapt, Indian Jones style, between my descending cheeks and the toilet seat to land square inside the bowl.
Being worried about what her reaction might be to being trapped in the bowl by something so tender and susceptible to all her sharp pieces, I didn't sit down. Instead I lifted her out and dried her off with the rag I use to dry my shower.
I don't get it. What's so fun about being in a toilet? Perhaps her life's ambition is to one day grow up to be a turd.
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