Tuesday, September 15, 2015

my three year old brain


I have a very clear memory of being 3 or 3 and a half and my mother teaching me about flushing the toilet. We had this great prewar apartment with a peachy colored bathroom. All of the fixtures were peach. The peach toilet did not have a tank behind it, it just had icy cold metal pipe behind it and a silver metal handle to flush with that stuck off of the pipe.

I am guessing I was getting a lesson because I potty trained and moving up to using the real toilet. My mother explained to me very calmly that when you are finished wiping you flush the toilet. I remember her giving me examples of how to do it. I think she stood up and flushed and then she showed me how you could do it another way, like this: she swung legs to the side and twisted her torso back to flush the toilet while still sitting on the bowl. I never saw her actually touch the flushing handle because her body was blocking it from my view so I thought that there was some magical movement you could do, some place you had to position yourself that made the toilet flush automatically. I remember every time I went to the bathroom, I tried to replicate her moves to hit the secret spot that made the toilet flush by it’s magical self. I tried and tried and tried on my own but I never figured out how to do it. 

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