*Originally written and posted to Facebook in 2016

It’s been a morning. My sleepy-eyed son strolled through the living room around 6:30 to make a quick stop in the powder room. He returned quickly saying the toilet was filled to the top. Assuming it was yet ANOTHER of his regular morning stories about just how much pee he can make, I took another drowsy sip of coffee and told him to be sure to flush. At the moment of the flush, that I had ordered, Niagra Falls came to our house! It seems the toilet was indeed about to overflow and flushing it had angered the beast.

My son screamed and ran away. I rushed in and started fighting for my life like a scene out of the Titanic all the while barking orders for someone to find the plunger in the midst of the chaos. No one was willing to help because “it is too gross”. Really? Because all my life I have dreamed of being drenched in the waste of my own family. Thank you for helping me realize the honor! Anyway, after I found the plunger I screamed for old towels while I went back in to stop the flooding. About this time my husband, who had not left the bed, begins screaming orders at me about a problem I have already solved-thanks for being there my love.

It was now time to save the baseboards and the carpet in the nearby bedrooms, so to the towels I went. I was working those towels with my feet like Chubby Checker himself had entered my living room to do a live performance of The Twist. And then, it was over. My daughter asked if this was what it was like to be a “real housewife” of Austin, TX and would I have time to iron her shirt. My look was the answer and for once she let it go. My son came by for a kiss and a snuggle just as I was catching my breath. And now that all is mopped and clean I have a quiet house to sit in and ponder how I can turn all those plunger, towel, and mop moves into the newest fitness craze and make millions.