Bathroom Monologue: The Lies Parents Tell

“Mom and Dad are going to be so happy!”

“They better be! This was our whole allowance!” Shirley complained as she and Mandy struggled to keep the frozen turkey aloft. The five block walk home from the supermarket had lined it with frost, but it still felt as hard as stone. They had trouble believing the thing ever softened up into a turkey dinner.

“They’ll be so proud they’ll give all three of us a raise!” Mark declared. He pointed to the linoleum floor. Shirley and Mandy looked at each other, then dropped the turkey. It fell with a crack that made all three children tense up.

Mark dove to the floor and rolled the turkey out of the way. It had only made a slight dent in the linoleum. He hugged the frozen bird in relief.

Mandy knelt and tried to smooth out the dent in the floor.

“So cough it up,” said Shirley. “What’s the big plan for cooking it when we can’t work an oven?”

Mark brightened, then looked at his sisters with uncommon intensity. “Girls, we don’t need an oven.”

“You need an oven to cook turkey, stupid!”

“No, you just need heat!” Mark scrambled over to the dish washer, which he’d made a big deal of learning to work last week. He couldn’t empty the top tray, but he declared himself master of pouring the soap in.

“Read this,” he commanded, pointing to one of the buttons.

The girls squinted.

“San…”

“Sanger?”

“Sainterary?”

He stomped. “Sanitary Heat! It get so hot that any germs on your plate die.”

Shirley pouted in thought, but Mandy perked up.

“And the germs on a plate come from food!”

“Exactly! So it’ll cook the turkey and kill all the germs.”

“No way.” Shirley folded her arms like Mom did when Dad was going to sleep on the couch. “If that was true, why would we have an oven?”

The kids looked at the oven. Mark shrugged.

“They probably bought it without knowing about Sanitary Heat.”

“But they still use it all the time.”

“To make themselves feel better about having it. It probably cost a ton.”

Mandy shook her head. “The lies parents tell.”

“Now come on,” Mark said, returning to the turkey. He tried to roll it towards the dish washer, like a massive snowball. “We need to get it finished before they get home. They’re going to be so surprised.”