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.

Cheers in Iowa

You know the Cheer’s test for the Presidency. “Would you sit down and have a beer with the guy?” It’s the “X” factor that determines who voters find attractive and who they don’t.

Back in 2004, no one could visualize John Kerry ever sitting down for a beer at a bar. Watching the poor guy try to eat a Philly cheese steak sandwich with the blue collar regulars was physically painful, whether or not you supported the man married to a Ketchup heiress. Everyone could see George Bush ordering a beer. Bubba –no problem, he’s bringing the keg. Dole, not likely, maybe in his early years.

Because this test is done with every candidate, I thought I’d propose a new test, ala the famous never asked If You were a Tree question of Barbara Walters’ fame, with my speculation about the answers.

For those of you that hate politics, I live just outside the beltway, it's our version of Reality TV and with the writer's strike...

Anyway, feel free to invent your own to suit your own political views, they will be as relevant and meaningful as the Cheers test; they just won’t make the evening news.

If the political candidates were beverages, what would they be?

Giuliani –I thought about a cheap gag like a Manhattan, but Rudi in his hour of glory was like a perfect James Bond Martini, shaken not stirred. He’s still a martini, it’s just I don’t olive him.

Huckabee –Rootbeer. I cannot outdo the master on this, Quark in Deep Space Nine describes the beverage and the Federation in this manner: “Bubbly, cloy. Happy. But here’s the thing... if you drink enough of it, you start to like it.” Insidious, like the Federation…

Romney Like a Pepsi, peevishly sulking at anyone who likes Coke.

Ron Paul: RC cola. People are always surprised that they like it as much as they do, but no one buys it instead.

McCain: You know how microwaving coffee doesn’t make it taste fresh? McCain is like that cup of coffee you put down to answer the phone and then forgot where you put it and found three hours later. You don’t want to nuke it, you want a fresh cup.

Thompson: Water. From the tap. Sitting in a tea cup with a bag of Darjeeling on the side, waiting for some heat. No one’s interested in drinking it. Not even him.

Hunter: Caffiene Free Generic Brand Diet Soda. You can drink it but in heaven's name why?

Tancredo: Tab. Didn't even know it was still served in some places.

Clinton: It would be so easy to do something with bitters or a vodka stinger, but the truth is, she’s like triple expresso straight. No sugar, no cream, no enhanced flavorings to soften the pure hit of hot dark stuff that causes uncontrolled tremors for hours. You will spend the night sleepless.

Obama: Barrack may be more likable than the Hilster but he has the same policy ideas with a younger hipper more palatable package. Ergo, he’s like a starbucks Venti cappachino with an extra shot of syrup and cream. You’ll look cool. It will cost a lot, and you’ll still shake afterwards, but it goes down better.

Edwards: A Wine cooler who thinks he’s champagne. Artificially enhanced air infused wine with a splashy marketing technique. So 80's it's wrong. Everyone thinks they like such things…until they drink them.

Kucinich: Ovaltine. He thinks he’s Hot Chocolate. He thinks he’s popular. I don’t know a soul who says, “More Ovaltine Please!” without receiving a large check as compensation.

Richardson: Remember Urban Cowboy? It was supposed to do for Country Western what Saturday Night Fever did for Discothèques. They even had a brand of mechanical bull and a brand name beer lined up for the surge in Gilly’s across the nation. It never happened. No one knows what an America run by Richardson would be like, but you can bet his two supporters probably have been drinking Richardson’s last stash of Gilly beer.

Dodd: Pepsi One, taste like Pepsi, less of a caffiene hit than warm milk, can't order it anywhere and nobody asks for it by name.

Gravel: Who? Guessing here. Store brand diet soda. Invisible, undesirable, unpalatable.

Biden: Red Bull. It has energy, it has caffeine. It has a lousy slogan and no one willingly chugs this stuff unless they have to pull an all-nighter in college to finish a big term paper.

Waitress at the diner in Iowa: "Now, what will you have?"

“Diet Coke please.”