Toilet Lockdown

Sometimes there are things that happen in my parenting life which force me to pause, reevaluate where I'm at and really ask "is this f$%#ing happening?!"  On Saturday we had a couple of friends over to watch the big UCLA/USC game and let all the kids run around and destroy my upstairs for a few hours.  The game had just concluded and parents were sorting out their children when I could hear a faint yell above the frey.  I slowly ascended the staircase, realizing that the shouts where coming from an upstairs bathroom.  "HELP!"  Arianna was screaming.  "What's the matter, honey?" I asked as I neared the top.  "Rafe locked me in the bathroom and I have squishy khakas. ... can you wipe me?"  I froze on the last step.  WTF?!!!  Sure enough, the door was locked and a stones throw away stood two-year-old Rafe.  He's got a face that is hard to read and for the life of me I could not figure out how he would have managed to pull this off.  And he just stared at me, holding his blanky like "IDK man."  All I had to go on was her word.  Regardless of the facts, there I knelt at 8:30 on a Saturday night, picking a bathroom lock to free my daughter from a toilet to which she was chained by squishy poop and the need of an adult wiper. ... Livin' the dream folks. ... livin' the dream.