I was pretty confident that Han Solo was about to exit the hallway bathroom in search of his galactic ship. The sleek silver shuttle was most likely parked in the school yard a couple of blocks away. Perhaps he had needed to make a pit stop on his way to rescue an at-risk planet in some distant solar system.  I was positive that it was Mr. Solo who was visiting my lavatory because earlier that morning his side-kick, Chewbaca, had left a hefty hairball right by the waste basket. On second thought, maybe that was the dog’s shedding winter coat that had drifted in from the hallway, making a fuzzy orb on the floor. I couldn’t be sure.

That very morning Tchaikovsky had been in the same exact bathroom. He had left the shower curtain twisted around the curtain rod. From what I could tell he probably was shooting his cannons for his famous 1812 Overture straight through the window that had been opened to welcome in the fresh Spring breeze. Any composer who conceived the brilliant idea of using artillery as instruments would be more than welcome in our home full of boys, but strangely enough, even the Sugar Plum Fairy had waltzed her way in for just a few minutes.

Our bathroom had become a rotating celebrity attraction over the last week. Even the whole Peanuts gang had somehow fit their big heads into our modest-sized bathroom.  Now, before I get ahead of myself, let me go back a couple of weeks before our loo was graced with so much excitement.

Summer was right around the corner and we were sorting through various things while doing a thorough Spring clean on the house. I had made a pile of all sorts of knick knacks from every room that would be perfect for our garage sale that was only a few weekends away. A majority of the items in the pile were toddler toys that weren’t needed in our toy box anymore now that the kids were older.

Now, anyone who has multiple children will know that there is always that one child in the family who has a very hard time letting go of anything. I have three of those in my house.

Yup, three out of three children in our home do not like to let go of anything. Last week the youngest asked me to save his old tooth brush for special memories. He wanted a display like my grandmother’s spoon rack that hung in her kitchen, boldly boasting all her spoons from her world travels. The idea of a rack full of old used toothbrushes doesn’t necessarily bring a feeling of nostalgia. The bristles that once stood uniform like a translucent army ready to fight tooth decay are now twisted and bent from six months of good use. The toothpaste-stained head is just overflowing with memories of standing at the sink and brushing our teeth twice a day. Unfortunately, he was going to be very disappointed to find out that I had thrown all his previous toothbrushes away, including the very one that he just asked me to save.

Getting rid of toddler toys wasn’t any easier that the toothbrush. It took one day to create the pile of toys we were selling. Three days later I was still searching the house to find the same exact toys we had already gathered. With revived interest, several sets of little fingers would grab the yard-sale-playthings and move them to another room. There wasn’t any way to tell if my boys were saving the toys from the mysterious yard sale shopper or just playing with them.  I was beginning to wonder if Toy Story had come to life in my living room and the famed duo, Woody and Buzz, were on a mission to rescue their friends who were in the dreaded garage sale pile.

There was one piece, specifically, that disappeared over and over. The other toys would move then be replaced once or twice, but not this one. No matter how many times I would run across it, I would then move it back into the outgoing box. Several hours later it would, once again, vanish. The odd thing is, every single time I would find this colorful little toy, it was in the bathroom, of all places. It wasn’t a toy even meant for the bathtub.

One thing was for certain, someone was intentionally leaving it there on the floor by the tub, and I wanted to know why.