“Moooooooooooooooomy, come in here right now!” Annabelle called from the bathroom. “Sophie put a whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet!”

I’d been wondering when that was going to happen. I’m just glad she didn’t unroll it first. I pulled the wet mass from the toilet bowl and called to Annabelle to please grab a plastic bag from the kitchen.

Then I turned to Sophie, quietly standing nearby, panties still around her ankles.

“SOPHIE! Why did you do that?!”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Accident!”

Nor did I.

“Really? It was an accident? Sophie, are you lying?”

“Yes.”

She DID ‘fess up immediately, so I had trouble keeping a straight face or handing down much of a punishment. And I figured it was an aberration, til this morning, when Sophie grabbed Annabelle’s blanket and called that an accident, too.

Ah, life on Fibber Island. It’s one of my favorite kid songs, by the group “They Might Be Giants,” one of those bands that made music for adults for a long time before cashing it in on kid albums. (To be honest, there’s not a huge difference between TMBG’s adult and kid music. Ditto for “Bare Naked Ladies,” whose first official kid album, “Snacktime,” came out earlier this year.) I was going to buy the MP3 to Fibber Island and post it here, but amazon says that’s a no no. So I’ll just tell you that Fibber Island is on the album “NO!” and you can buy the song (for just 99 cents!) or the album yourself on amazon or, I’m sure, a more appropriate indie location I can’t think of at the moment.

Hey, at least I didn’t try to take a photo of the sopping wet toilet paper roll. OK, that’s a fib. I thought about it, but couldn’t get to the camera phone in time. Just as well. After my sister lost her phone not long ago to pedicure water, that’s all I need — a phone in the toilet.

I was visiting my sister’s family in Denver, and we’d all come to Brian and Meredith’s for a Memorial Day BBQ. Brian was done cooking; we’d all eaten (Sophie had actually consumed a buffalo burger, then passed out in front of Elmo on the living room TV; Annabelle was in the basement playing frisbee) and everyone else was distracted by ice cream sundaes.

Brian shut the doors to the small office, closed the blinds, and my brother in law Jonathan quietly joined us a few minutes later.

I felt like I’d been invited into the drug room to try someone’s new baggie of crack, and in a way, I had been.

Waving me into his comfy office chair, Brian leaned over and pulled up YouTube on his Dell, plugged in some key words, and stepped back.

Two dorky guys on stools, with guitars, filled the screen, and the dorkier of the two started singing about “Business Time” — part Adam Sandler, part Hall and Oates, maybe even a little Ween (Ray’s obvservation when he saw it later) – and we all laughed til our sides hurt, even though Brian and Jonathan had seen this clip before, probably more than once.

Yes, I’m the last person to hear about “Flight of the Conchords”.

I can barely keep up with the latest funky kids’ music (Bare Naked Ladies’ “Snacktime”) and the best kids’ cable TV show (“Jack’s BIg Music Show”). Beyond that, I’m so culturally clueless I haven’t even heard of the hottest new show on HBO.

Of course, now that I’ve been tipped off, those Conchord guys are everywhere: On a poster on a co-worker’s office wall, on the cover of the Bust magazine I read last month (obviously not very closely, I now realize — I read right past them), all over the Web.

Honestly, I’m already sort of sick of them, and I haven’t even seen their show.

That’s so totally a lie. I’m off now, to channel surf.