Crawling along, bobbing her head from side to side to her own private music, Little L. E. Fant crawls across the family room floor, apparently delighting in the mere pleasure of movement. A glance at mom, a flash of a smile and she is back to her seemingly aimless dance around the front room. Another glance and...what's this? Mom doesn't appear to be watching.All aimlessness, wiggling and head bopping cease as she darts for the hall. First a left. Then a right. Then enter The Room. The Room everyone goes in. The Room with the door which is almost always closed. The Room where little L. E. Fant is left out.
For Little L. E. Fant has discovered the joys of the toilet. Standing invitingly at just her height, she can pull herself up easily to a stand and peer inside. If she stretches, she can just reach the water and what a wonderful feeling that is between little fingers. No wonder everyone goes in there so many times a day!
But just as victory is in sight and she reaches that tiny little hand toward the seat to pull herself up, she is caught. "No!" She hears her mother say. And she turns and rolls into a seated position. For a moment, she seems puzzled. As if trying to determine the proper reaction to this new obstacle. A cry? That smile? A dash out the door? No, after a moment's hesitation, she chooses a sort of cool nonchalantness. She reaches for a rubber alligator as if that were the sole object of her attention.
Toilet? What's a toilet?Her eyes seem to ask as she sticks the alligator in her mouth. She yields to being picked up without complaint. But as mom turns to leave the restroom, little L. E. Fant turns to catch one last glimpse of her true desire just as the door snaps shut.
Foiled again.
