That Sinking Feeling

 I used to be the crusader for the home. Every day when the school kids go off with their father in the car, I mild mannered blogger and mother began my survey of the home. Like Batgirl, I prowled in the hidden corners of the closet, daring to look where children might have left nefarious deeds with the hopes of going undetected. An apple core, a pile of laundry, a forgotten notebook for an important project at school, a lunch box with the food from a meal they didn't like, I'd seen it all.

But now, not only must I guard this fair domicile from the crimes of established children, I have a new set of villains that are surprising not only for their boldness, but for their utter indifference to the laws of the land. I speak of the four and a half and the almost 3 year old. They have discovered water. They have discovered that every sink pours it without ceasing if you turn the knob and worst of all, they have discovered the plug.

It began with the ordinary brushing of teeth. My daughter asked to do it herself and unwittingly, I abetted her fledgling life of crime. The other sibling watched with great interest and took great joy in her sister's new found power. I went to get clothing so they could get dressed. I returned to find both sinks filled and two very wet girls with at least 50 toys in each "bath" respectively. Trying to stay focused, I told myself, the floor needed mopping anyway and I'll just sponge them down and no harm really done.

But the day wore on and it happened again when one of them went to wash up for lunch. That's a second bathroom clean I told myself as I wiped up the excess and explained that Pony and Dolphin (both residing in the sink) did NOT need a long bath before lunch and would have to dry before being played with again.
To keep order, I survey each room of our home every day. The basement usually draws everyone in, with all the toys and the larger TV and the Wii. Today, my daughters locked themselves in their sister's bathroom.

The door was one that did not have a lock that could be picked. I was at the mercy of my pitiful powers of persuasion. I offered food. The sink kept running. I mentioned toys. The splashes continued. I asked if I could join them. "No!" and more giggles. I ran upstairs and got the screw driver. I'd take the lock off entirely. Working quickly as there were now trickle sounds in addition to the faucet running and giggles, I heard one daughter suddenly grasp the idea that maybe this wasn't smart.

"Mom!" she was panicking. "I don't remember how to shut the water off!" "Open the door!" I offered, still furiously trying to pry the doorknob from the door. "It's stuck." The door knob was beginning to loosen but if it fell off inside from my attempt, the lock would remain. I could hear mini Niagara forming and two wet daughters getting a bit scared. "Don't worry!" I soothed or tried to, as I was starting to get antsy too, "Just turn the knobs one at a time." The water stopped pouring. They were still locked in, they were complaining about being sopping wet.

I needed them to turn the remaining stub of my side of the knob to get out, but I thought they would be afraid not to see me. I needed inspiration to get them out. Before I could say anything, one daughter said to the other, "Oh my goodness, Dora the Explorer is on." and out they came leaving me to retighten the knob I'd messed with, and mop up the mess.

As they sat in fresh dry clothes watching Nickelodeon, I surrendered to the sad reality that I'm no longer Batgirl; just Commissioner Gordon who now flashes the Dora Signal when danger threatens Gotham City.