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Our Secret

That our toilet waved a surrender flag this afternoon–in the form of one large strip of toilet paper too many–was cause for minimal alarm.

We’d been expecting this. 

But it was the water rising up to kiss a small boy’s behind instead of disappearing in the bowl that started the panic. 

“Mom-meeee!” he’d called from the hallway after a narrow escape. 

We both cautiously slunk back to the bathroom, tilted toward our tired toilet and listened to it hiss. 

“I bet daddy can fix it,” I said.

Which was when my son pleaded, “please don’t tell daddy on me.” 

And though daddy would have hugged him just like I was, I promised to keep the wheezing toilet… just between us.

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