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to perform. logical choice, I thought, since the Towel fam-

You have to understand that the daughters ily would not tell their stories if they knew
were still at the age at which they believed that someone other than Paula was in the Toi-
everything told to them by older and wiser let Room. So, I reclined against the edge of
adults. They believed in the chimney-hop- the tub and waited for the fun to begin.
ping, present-dispensing Santa Claus and the My sister sat down and greeted the Towel
plump, candy-toting Easter Bunny. They also family: Tessa, the Mama Towel; Tim, the Papa
bought the story about the wand-wielding, Towel; and Francesca, the Baby Towel. Then,
money-doling Tooth Fairy. They even be- as the Towels began to tell a story, my curios-
lieved that you couldn't, under any circum- ity got the better of me so I pulled back the
stances, subtract shower curtain a little to see this marvel of
a bigger number modern tapestry and took a peek. I could see
My washcloth from a smaller the towels; they did not look any different then
number.
was off on its they had during my time alone in this Toilet
My father then Room. My sister, on the other hand, was ges-
own, lonely in proceeded to ticulating wildly, perfectly in tune with the
take the I ice animated story being poring out from her own
the big scary cream' froth and mouth. Then I knew for certain that the Tow-

world. I did playfully els weren't speaking, my sister had deceived

not belong in squished the me. Paula was using a falsetto voice for each
foamy shampoo of the members of the Towel family. Whebn
the loop anV bubbles into his she saw me from behind the curtain, she tried
daughters' faces. to explain that the Towel family must have
longer. All pandemo- somehow known that I was hiding, and so

nium broke out, refused to tell their stories. She didn't want
with Barbies and ponies flying everywhere me to be dejected because of this snub from
and 'ice cream' all over the place. This dan- them. And so, since she loved meso much,
gerous situation eventually required the as- she decided to tell the stories herself. Need-
sistance of my mother, who was none too less to say, I was disappointed at not being
pleased at having my father cleverly wheedle able to hear the Towels speak, but upon hear-
his way out of being Chief Saturday Bather. ing Paula's explanation and seeing that she
Fortunately for my father, he had used was having the time of her life making up sto-
Johnson's and Johnson's No Tears Formula, ries for the Towels to tell, how could I spoil
or he would have had to rush four little na- her fun? I pulled the shower curtain shut
ked daughters to the emergency room!
again to listen to her entertaining show.
Thinking back on other joyous occasions ex- My mind strays from the telling of Towel
perienced in the Toilet Room, I am reminded stories to another important story, this one
of a time when the Towels talked to my sister, dealing with real life and set, once again, in
Paula. There was a Towel family living in my the most thought-provoking room in the
bathroom, my sanctuary, and I was unaware house, the Toilet Room. I first began to real-
of this fact until my sister, four or five years ize that I was growing up not upon leaving
old at the time, asked me to sit in on one of home to go to college (I could always come
her Toilet Room sessions. I decided, for back for weekends), and not upon reaching
decency's sake, as well as to preserve the in- the ripe old age of twenty (well, maybe I had
dividual sanctity of that mystical room, to hide a brief, wistful longing for the teenage years
in the bath tub with the shower curtain mask- to continue). It truly dawned on me that
ing my presence from the Towel family. A things would never be the same again when I

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