The Toliet Seat.

I am CONVINCED there is a button embedded in my toliet seat. Every time one of my cheeks hits it, it is a bat signal to my children that they must congregate and get my attention at once.

This button tells them that they need my IMMEDIATE attention. The minute my butt touches that damn seat all of a sudden I hear a worried chorus of, where's Mommy?

Sometimes I will yell, "she left."

Other times I will remain silent. Do not be fooled, this does not deter their hunt, trust me I have tried. They just continue to ask where you are until you feel like you have been waterboarded by the FBI, and just answer.

I am pretty sure they are NEVER more interested in my whereabouts than when I go to the bathroom or make a phone call, but that is for another time.

I could be wandering the streets in my bathrobe and slippers, and they wouldn't look for me as hard as they do when I am in the loo.

Like the minute I sit down on the potty, the floor must have opened up and swallowed me whole.

Like the GPS tracker I think my children secretly installed in me went offline.

The minute I cross the threshold to the bathroom, my children become panicked. This button seems to have them convinced I have had enough, and packed it all up and moved to Jersey.

All of a sudden they care about me and my whereabouts.

The button on the toliet seat reminds them that they need a snack, that one sock fell off, that they need to tell me at that VERY second, the drama that happened at school THREE DAYS AGO. It reminds them to ask me at 8:30 AM what I am making for DINNER in THREE NIGHTS from now.

But you know what?

It means I am IMPORTANT to them.

So even though I haven't gone to the bathroom solo since 2009, that means I am loved. That my 3 little humans care about me.

So for that, I will happily take a seat.