Occupy Toilet Bowl - Day 3

Here I sit as Day 3 dawns a new and present opportunity for me to raise awareness and my toilet brush in protest of the cleaning disparity in my own household.  It just occurs to me however, that quite possibly I may not have thought this plan through.  In my haste to chain myself to the dirtier-than-I-thought toilet bowl, I left both the key to unlock the chain and my cell phone on the bathroom counter just out of reach.  Keep in mind however, that the cleaning supplies are still located 3 feet away as my protest has not actually moved anyone in the nest to take action.  Oh, the irony of it all.  Good thing I’m in the ceramic tiled bathroom, so my “flush-in” chants of “I’m part of the ummm…52-1/2%” as well as yelps for help can reverberate loudly off the wall since I also forgot a megaphone.  I never said I would be good at this.

For a moment this morning I thought perhaps some of the beaky members might be breaking ranks to join Mama Finch in fighting the good fight.  But alas, hope sprung prematurely.  Owlie strolled in with a "Hey girl, hey, HOLLA" and wanted to know if she could borrow my hair dryer.  By the time I had figured out what her greeting meant, she'd left and Baby Chick waltzed in.  He just wanted answers to the following pressing questions:

1. Will the world end when God is done making people or when the sun explodes?  (Answer:  If someone does not unlock this chain, I may explode)
2. Can we get a puppy?  (Answer:  Well, Baby Chick as you can see, I might possibly have an issue obtaining anything else at the moment that has the ability to poop)
3. Who is the man at church who has no hair and talks up front into the microphone?  (Answer:  That would be the preacher man.  He is kind of like the “leader” of the church.  Please go ask him to pray that someone will get me the key)

Now, I have got a question for you Baby Chick.  Do you not see your beloved mother chained to the toilet?  I'm now becoming alarmed that Baby Chick considers his mother chained to a toilet as perfectly normal, which would make him well, not so normal.  Awww…here’s Buddy the Wonder Dog!  I knew you wouldn’t let me down. “Go fetch the key boy, go get the key”, but as he is about as smart as a box of rocks, all I get in response is a face lick and a tail wag.  “OK, that’s it.  Just see if Santa will bring you any Milk Bones this year!”  I am now thinking Milk Bones sound pretty good as I also forgot food...

to be continued...maybe