Dear John Stewart (One Moment With a Toilet…)


What a great day it has been in the mountains, the bits of last storm’s snow melting, listening to birds singing, and taking a nature walk with Captain. The feeling of the sun and fresh air lift us and we feel like two flowers high on fresh water, sun, and freshly split daffodil bulbs. Life is wonderful when the kid is happy and lively, spring is in the air, and all the good things are just whirling and spiraling into the great mystical whiteness.

Yes, there’s the twirling whiteness…porcelain white. Duty calls and I must get caught up on housework and, desperate to be cleaned, is the lonely toilet, calling with a sweet rendition of “Flower Duet” from Lakme and promises of chocolate buttercreams if I just get in there and take care of business. Oh, back in my youth, when I refused to be helpful with house cleaning… I suppose I am getting my just desserts, so to speak.

There is always a moment I have before I clean a toilet that I resist it, as though I am a Princess from the land that the porcelain rump-bumper has forgotten. I sigh to remember that, as a kid, I would watch my Mom in action, cleaning like a maniac and I would think that I would never get married, have children, or clean all day, and I would never, ever use my thumbnail to scrape unknown bits of dried stuff off of anything. My how do the times change. As I arm myself with the toilet brush and some Bon Ami and get to work, I feel myself begin to drift to a wonderful place, a happy place and I just have to let go…

There, in the bowl itself, I see a face start to form and it is, of all people, Jon Stewart. I sprinkle his face delicately with the white scrubbing powder and can see his lovely eyes, with just a touch too much eyeliner, smiling back at me. He gives me a wink and I wink back, our unspoken understanding that scrubbing the toilet isn’t just about the importance of bathroom hygiene, but rather something disturbingly humorous and slightly strange. Yes, Dear Jon, I fantasize about you during some of my more mundane chores, and crazy or not, let’s just say it works.

I have been invited to visit the show and of course Jon has tons of extra time and even reads my blog and his wife is dying to try new projects with the kids. The guy, for all his popularity, has time for a “little person” and since my book has just been picked up, he wants to have me on his show and rave about bloggers and all of the good work they do, and my amazing book. I am at the show. My hair is done up to an incredible gloss and I am wearing the perfect jeans, 1950’s blouse and a great necklace. I’m pink-cheeked and smiling as my name is announced and I carry my black bag smoothly across the stage to my seat next to one of the coolest guys I’ve ever seen on the tevvy. He jumps up and kisses my cheek. My cheek! I laugh and we chat about “kartwheels” and it’s unimportance in American culture. I say some really funny things and the crowd laughs appreciatively and then I tell Jon that I brought us a little something special and proceed to pull a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the bag and pour us each a drink. The audience gasps and Jon makes a funny about it being only 11am, because that is when the show is shot. We all laugh as we lift our glasses, make funny faces into the camera and drink. The crowd goes nuts and we drink another. Now he thanks me for being one of his most delightful guests and, as we cut to a commercial break, he leans over and touches my arm and admits that he has always dreamed of taking his family to a cabin in the Sequoia National Forest and maybe we can get our families together sometime. K, Captain and I leave the studio and head to our hotel room to celebrate. What a great day. I love New York City!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I find myself on my knees in front of the cabin loo. It is sparkling clean all the way down and around the back. Really, you could drink whiskey from it. I pull myself up and close the lid. As I move out of the room, I see a blob of something on the sink and reach over and give it a quick scrape with my amazing thumbnail, dust off the crumbs and move on. No imagination necessary.

What do you think about when YOU are cleaning??

Cheers!  Karen

Categories: Mom's Junk Trunk | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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