I think this particular post today is both a glimpse into my life (for those of you who were ever so interested to know what it’s like) and a public service announcement for anyone who visits our house.
We have bathroom doors in our house. We actually have two bathrooms in our house and there is a door for each one. The doors work, meaning they open and they close. This may seem like obvious, well-duh kind of stuff but it is important to note, again, the bathroom doors work.
You wouldn’t know it though if you came to visit our house. The moment my husband or I step into the bathroom and close the door it sets off a strange chain reaction of events tg
Exhibit A: Bathroom door closes. The 20-month old stops whatever she was contentedly doing and suddenly panics that the bathroom (a completely benign space 3 seconds prior) has morphed into a tunnel to another dimension that is going to suck whomever has entered that bathroom into, never to be seen again. Pitter-pat-pitter-pat go the feet in rapid succession as she runs to our rescue. The door crashes open. She breathes a deep sigh of relief that the bathroom has not sucked us into another dimension. She then proceeds to sit on the floor and watch us do our business until we are done, just to make sure that pesky inter-dimensional-bathroom-travel stuff does not happen on her watch. All the while the bathroom door remains open.
Exhibit B: Bathroom door closes. The 4-year-old, also happily ensconced in some activity that requires no supervision whatsoever from a parent, is suddenly seized by the need to ask a question. I am certain the sound of the door closing triggers something in his brain that goes “ASK YOUR PARENT A QUESTION NOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW” and he of course, responds immediately to that primordial command. Knock, knock, knock on the door, then the inevitable question, like “where are my socks” or “why is the sky blue” or “when are we going to go to Hawaii”, and the expectation of an answer right then. As the answer is being given the door is opened because the four-year-old points out he cannot hear the answer so well and we cannot really have a proper conversation through a bathroom door. (Then wait until I am done in the bathroom and come back out, I briefly think. Ha. Ha. Silly silly thought.) And the conversation continues until we leave the bathroom. All the while, with the door open. (A funny little addendum to this: I have noticed that as soon as we leave the bathroom, the four-year-old ceases to have burning-must-be-answered-right-this-moment questions.)
So, back to the topic of today’s post. We have bathroom doors that work but I am not really sure why, because they are never closed when they need to be.
- The bathroom doors in our house are for guests, not the actual occupants of the house.
- If you are visiting our house (as a guest!) be forewarned that when you do your business in the bathroom, even though the door is for you, you may still be visited by a small human.
- If it is the 20-month old just continue what you are doing and make sure you do not get sucked into another dimension. We are hoping she will eventually realize people go into AND come out the bathroom AND she does not have to be there to make sure everything is okay.
- If it is the 4-year-old be ready to answer some random questions that will just keep coming until you are done. Why are there 7 days in a week? Why does Monday come before Tuesday? What is 7 + 22? Why? What is a number? Why is the tile white? Why are your toes pink? And so on…
- We will attempt to run interference in provide you with the glorious privilege of going to the bathroom with a closed door. No guarantees though.
- We should get better locks on the doors (because honestly they don’t work very well and that might solve this whole issue once and for all).