What am I doing? Is what you think when you find yourself, and your double baby stroller, pacing back and forth in the plumbing isle, at your local home improvement chain. There I am trying to piece different plumbing connections together to "construct" a 18" doll toilet. While searching, I am also consistently bending over and picking up bottles of milk, Transformers, pinecones, shoes, and Miss Moose (the baby toy no one likes, but I am persistent) and about every five minutes I am rolling over a "crunchy" AKA receiving blanket, which are the girls favorite blankies.
Then as soon as I roll over it and it has been exposed to the store floor it gets two more plays, basically three strikes and it's out. I toss another random piece that looks like a tank into my beach bag, (that I hook on the back of the stroller, because I have a store cart phobia with children) as it is becoming filled with miscellaneous PVC plumbing connections. At this point I am close to what I think could work, with a lot of tweaking, sawing, sanding, and caulking. Then it happens, here comes the professional plumbing man, asking me if I need help. I mean, at this point, it appears that I clearly do.
I have parts and connections falling, babies crying, and crunchies that just hit three strikes. So I told him, "I am building a toilet," as Logee sucked on Miss Moose's antlers. He looked at me with this confused stare and pointed me in the direction of the toilets. I then explained I am designing a toilet for an 18" doll.
He stared at me, even more confused than the first time. I kindly said, "I don't think you will be able to help me with this one." I got everyone loaded up, grabbed the little one some Tim Bits, I figured I could throw some fruit with the little donut holes and call it a lunch. Stay tuned for the toilet reveal.
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