“Oh maaaaaans!”

It’s 7 a.m. or thereabouts, and in the comfort of bed, I hear my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter’s voice from the bathroom across the hall.

“Oh maaaaan!” she declares. In the interest of accuracy, the exclamation is likely, “Oh maaaaaans!” The little girl has a way with the letter “S,” and “Oh man” usually gets one.

Next I hear my husband, who has rushed to assess the situation and offer assistance.

“Don’t put your fingers in it!” he says, or words to that effect. He says something about helping her, and the reaction is instant and intense.

“No, my do it, my do it, my do it!!!”

“Okay, okay!”

And he leaves her there to do it, whatever it is. And you know that, whatever it is, it’s not something she should be doing by herself, no matter how eager she is to accomplish the feat by herself.

Thirty seconds pass, maybe 45 seconds.

“Oh maaaaans,” the sweet, funny voice says. “Help, please?”

I realize it’s time to rise for the day. I’ll spare you the details, other than to confirm that yes, it involves poo, and a certain spray product that is supposedly safe enough to use near children and unforgiving toward 99.9% of bacteria on nonporous surfaces.