Rites of Passage

Who knows The Kick?
Some things you do in life are signs of getting older...rites of passage if you will. You know...like riding a bike...ordering off the adult menu for the first time...staying at home by yourself... In my family, there was a certain aunt (who shall remain nameless but I believe she is a reader of this blog) who is very petite in stature. Some might say she's little, some might even call her short, but most definitely you could call her petite. When I was little, it was always a big thing to see if you were taller than Aunt Lisa (remember, we always change names here at ellaandluke.blogspot.com) cause Aunt Lisa is like 4'10", maybe 4'11" on a good day. A really good day.



Recently, I taught Ella a skill that will carry her thru her tween, teen, and adult years. Something that all ladies should know. That's right. That's right. I call it "The Kick."



"The Kick?"



Yes, The Kick. When you go to the bathroom in a public place like a restaurant or whatever, who wants to touch the handle to flush? Certainly, not I. Who knows when the last time was the restroom itself was cleaned let alone who knows how long it's been since the bathroom cleaner thought to take a can of Lysol and spray down those nasty, germy little handles. That's when you take your foot and kick at the handle to get it to flush so you don't have to take your hand and touch whatever it is that we don't want to think about being on the handle.




We were in the restroom the other day and I was getting ready to do The Kick after Ella went potty. She asked me to stand back. I then saw her stand on one foot and fling the other at the flusher. She watched her peeps go down the drain while saying "See ya, Peeps!" Then gave me a high five and yelled "Score!"



That's my baby!