While we were all chatting and visiting, our granddaughter, Charlotte, was going back and forth, finding a place in the closet to hide, jumping out and laughing. We were aware of her presence and watching her as she scurried about, but not really watching, either. You know how that is.
Now, I must interject before I go on. My husband, who is all but confined to a wheelchair, has a need to use a urinal often, as he cannot always get the the toilet and lift the seat on time. One of the strategically placed urinals sits on top of the commode in his Man Cave. The door to the Man Cave is usually closed if Grandpa is not in there. And Charlotte knows she is not to go in there without Grandpa. But sometimes...All of a sudden my daughter and I realized we had not heard from Charlotte in a few minutes. We started calling her name liltingly, thinking she was probably hiding in the closet again. I had a sinking feeling, 'Check the Man Cave!' Then, I heard my daughter's horrified voice, "Oh my gosh! Charlotte don't touch that!" I knew, right away, what Charlotte had in her tiny little hand!
As my daughter Whisked Charlotte into the bathroom to wash her hands I went into the Man Cave (which, by the way, did NOT have Grandpa in it) and found the urinal on it's side with Pokey the pony inside. All I can say is I'm so glad the urinal was not full at the time!! I could just picture Charlotte's little arm, up to the elbow in that thing, placing little Pokey there so she could shake him up or whatever 'almost two-year-olds' do with ponies in bottles. It was comical but also a teaching moment for me!
From now on, I will remember to be sure all the urinals are out of reach when the little ones come over. And I'll be a little more aware of when Grandpa IS, and IS NOT, in his Man Cave.
As for Pokey, well, I'm sad to say we did not revive him. He was buried in the urinal, in a quiet family ceremony.
