Flaw To My Logic

I generally think of myself as a pretty clever kid.  I mean, I read whole, BIG books in a single day!  So when I finished my school work, and used the restroom, I figured I was doing the "right thing."  I mean, when Daddy is on the phone I'm not supposed to interrupt.  And Mommy was still working on science with Cooper.  She would be cross if I interrupted that! How was I supposed to know that the toilet would just keep overflowing?!? 

I knew something was wrong when I heard desperate screams from Mama. 

"Todd!!!" 

"TODD!!!"

"TODD!!!!!!!!!!!"

"TODD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

That was my first guess something was wrong.  But still, it could have been another kid.  It could have been a hurt toe or bloody nose... well, actually, not really.  Mama doesn't usually hollar at Daddy unless something is really wrong. 

When Mama ran at full speed by me grasping for beach towels, I knew there had been a flaw in my earlier logic.  A fatal flaw. 

I thought the toilet would just stop.  I thought the grown-ups would notice earlier and sort it out. 

I. 

Was.

Wrong.

Apparently the toilet didn't stop.  Apparently the water kept flooding.  Apparently it can go under doors, into closets, and through the living room.  Good information to know...  you know, for next time. 

They said we weren't going to be in trouble, they just needed to know what went wrong.  So I told them what happened.  The handle got stuck and the water didn't go down.  But that's also when my little sister said she had made a "massive" poo and it wouldn't go down.  I went into the bathroom as she was coming out come to think of it.  I had to ask her to move aside while she washed her hands.  So really, I'm still fabulous and clever.  It wasn't my fault at all!  Really, it was my great-great-great-great-grandmother's fault.  SHE'S  the one who gave us the genes for good, sturdy poop that got passed down through the generations that made the toilet clog right before I got the handle stuck on the toilet.  So it was all their fault.  I had absolutely nothing at all to do with any of it...

Well, maybe, but just a little. 

** Direct quotes were taken for the retelling of this story by one particular nine-year-old**