Listen up dearest family of mine; Just because I sit down on the toilet, it does not mean I want to hold an emergency family meeting.
Contrary to popular belief, the bathroom is not the family board room. It is my Batcave, my fortress of solitude. It’s where I go to get a moment of silence, however brief that might be.
Our dog and cat are always the first to follow me in there. Zoey stands guard at the door while T.C. demands a good head scratch. If I ignore him, he politely rubs up against my leg to announce his arrival. If that doesn’t work, he usually gives me a nice strong head butt to the shin. That’s usually when I give in, so as not to risk any other dangling body parts getting swiped at. Inevitably, the dog sees the cat getting attention and jealousy sets in. She runs in and does her best to muscle her way past the cat. I just look down at them and think, Have you no sense of smell?
Bex is no better. I could be in the middle of studying something, writing an email, or at the end of a good book, and it wouldn’t matter to her. She’d interrupt me and we’d be five minutes into a conversation before it dawns on her that I might be in the middle of something. Not that she really needs my participation in the conversation.
Once, she barged in on my bathroom meditation time to ask me a question. This was followed by ten minutes of talking at me. Then she thanked me for my advice and left the room. Mind you, I never answered her question. I never even spoke. At least I was able to finish up in peace. There’s been plenty of times where I’ve had six eyeballs staring at me while I was on the toilet and not one of them looked away while I wiped.
I’ve given up on closing the door. A closed door is an invitation to knock and enter, unless you have the manners of a cat. T.C. can’t stand a closed door. He will run across the apartment to karate chop it open. The bathroom door is no exception. So rather than get annoyed at the interruption, now I just leave it open and go with the flow.
Even Luke is being trained at a young age. Bex will bring him in and say “He woke up from a nap and wanted to say Hello!” I’m sure the first thought that our infant son had as he woke from his nap was, Where’s the milk? Food, I need food! Imagine his disappointment when he’s delivered to me. Hey buddy, I know you got man boobs and all but there ain’t no milk in those thing…Holy shit what crawled in you and died? Get me outta here! Help! Mooooommmmmy!
At least someone in this family has a sense of smell.
I have fantasies of training the dog to work as my bathroom bouncer. I’d settle for a secretary.
“Zoey, clear my schedule for the next hour, this one might take a while.”
“And if my wife comes around, tell her I’m in a meeting.”
And then Becca would come along and bribe Zoey with a dog treat. So the whole plan would fall apart anyway.
My days of shitting in peace are numbered. I know it will only get worse as Luke becomes a toddler. Not only will he be in there with me but I will have to sit in there with him. My only hope is that all this quality time will speed the potty training process along.
Either way, get ready for my next book Crapping With Kids: A Bathroom Conversational.