Is there some unwritten rule that moms do not get to go to the bathroom in peace?
Take this morning, for instance.
While in the bathroom attempting to take my, err, morning constitution, I had a full audience.
First, TwinkleToes wanted up in my lap. I’m not exactly going to tell her no, so up she came.
Then RK comes in and starts telling me about a new project they are considering at work that will make him spend a lot of extra hours at work for a while if they go through with it. While he’s talking TwinkleToes decides she wants Daddy instead and went to him. Still in the room, but not on my lap. A bit of an improvement.
Meanwhile GlitterGirl comes in to complain that she’s wearing lavender and these purple shoes do.not.match. Oh, the horrors.
RK fusses at her for interrupting him. I tell her they are the same color just a different shade and they are fine. She grumbles about it and sits down to put them on.
Lucky for me the dog didn’t come in, too.
Locking the door does not help. If I had done that then Twinkletoes would have been outside crying for me while RK would have been trying to talk to me through the door and GlitterGirl would have been in full meltdown mode because her shoes didn’t match.
Maybe we need a smaller bathroom?
Ah well, it’s only for another few years and then I’ll be able to close the door again.
I vaguely remember back when I used to close the door and take a two hour bath with a nice book. I’ll probably be able to do that again when the youngest reaches high school.
No hurry, I can wait.