It was a meeting of the minds — great minds.

Only they were MIA (missing in action).

The incident I’m about to take the lid off of may make these great thinkers flush with embarrassment. Still, when this episode happened in my home, the book group knew their privacy was at risk.

These avid readers who rarely finish an assigned book, — “What book?” — but enjoy the thrill of completing a plate of snacks, were challenged in a somewhat childlike way.

“Um, Lucy” one woman called out as she returned from down the hall, “I think you WILL have to show me how to operate this toilet seat. I can’t seem to figure it out,” her voice now subdued with embarrassment.

Hadn’t I warned them earlier in the evening? No, everyone had been eating and chatting while I entertained them with my frantic attempt at a new recipe.

Then, shortly after the first query, another distressed non-reader sidled up next to me.

“Can you take a minute,” her brow wrinkled in frustration, “to give me a hand with the ‘you-know-what’ in the bathroom?”

Where was a toddler when you needed one?

While the warm brie cooled and the caramel sauce I was stirring hardened into a lump, I trotted down the hall, ready to give another detailed demonstration of the childproof toilet seat safety lock. What rarely stumped an inquisitive child had baffled my baby boomer guests.

As I later reflected on the evening, I thought it would have been a good idea to hand out operating instructions for the toilet seat.

Instead, I gave out printed copies of the brie with caramel sauce. After all, great minds think alike. I knew they would read the recipe.