Bathroom Bliss

I was reading about the history of bathrooms last night, when I came across this interesting excerpt from a book cleverly entitled: The Bathroom.

"It is the place of blissful escape where we steal a few moments of precious privacy. It is the place to which we see to make ourselves feel good--to relax, rejuvenate, recharge. Its importance goes well beyond the mundane practical functions of personal maintenance and the rituals of hygiene; it is where we cleanse ourselves spiritually as well as physically."

Really? I always thought it was the place where you did your business as quickly as possible while awkwardly wedging one foot against the door in a vain effort to keep your screaming children from forcing their way in.

No wonder I feel so worn out all the time.

I was pondering on this just the other day as I was sitting in the bathroom -- Evie was standing next to me, happily unrolling the toilet paper -- when, suddenly, it hit me. There is not one private thing in my life anymore. Not one sacred, untouchable thing that is solely my own. Personal hobbies are elusive creatures, fleetingly enjoyed in the few precious minutes between diaper changes, riot control play time and making three meals a day. Showers are taken late at night and in total silence for fear of waking the kids. And even when the kids are asleep, the baby-monitors are a blaring, constant reminder that we are at the beck and call of these two little tyrants.

My deep thoughts are interrupted moments later when Luke comes running in.

"Buzz Yite-ear!"

He was holding his Buzz Lightyear DVD.

"Not now, Honey. Mommy's on the toilet."

"Buzz Yite-ear!!!!!"

"I'll play it for you in a minute, Luke. Now go away and let Mommy finish."

And then he threw a royal fit.....just about the same time that Evie worked down to the cardboard spool.

"That's it! No fits, Luke. Sit in the corner.""

I shoved them both out the door and locked it.

Unfortunately, our "no-fit corner" is located right outside the bathroom. So, naturally, it isn't long before I hear a voice, crystal clear, floating up from the crack beneath the door.

"Buzz Yite-ear!"

And then I see it. The Buzz Lightyear DVD getting pushed slowly underneath the door. A small hand follows it through, shoving the movie as far into the room as possible.

I tried to ignore it.

Then the door handle starts to jiggle.

--Now, you should know that the geniuses who built this house installed door locks that (intentionally??) pop open after a few purposeful jiggles. Luke figured this out five minutes after we moved in.--

Fortunately, I had just enough time to flush and wash up before he popped the lock...and was completely prepared to give him my best "stern face" when he came through. But, as the door swung open, I saw that it had been Luke and Evie pressing against the other side. And they were both looking up at me with the sweetest smiles...as if they hadn't seen me in days.

I'm starting to think that privacy is overrated.



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