"Mommy? This banana tastes funny! Can I have a cookie instead?"
"Mom? Is the WiFi down? My game just stopped working."
"Amber? What's for dinner? Did you remember to get me more M&Ms?"
It seems the second my ass hits the toilet, I'm asked a question by someone in this house. It's like a silent alarm goes off. "Mom is about to go to the bathroom...I need the answer to my inquiry NOW." I thought since my kids got older (they are 6 and 11) that I'd get privacy. Finally! After years of one of them, or both, accompanying me to the toilet, I could enjoy some peace.
Since they are older, they no longer watch me do the deed because ew, gross, mom has a vagina--but they do pound on the door, interrupting my quiet. Sometimes it's because a beloved toy is missing: "Mommy! I can't find Pinkie Pie! She's scared and lost! I need help!" (What the HELL am I supposed to do about it mid-pee? I ask you, WHAT?)
Sometimes it's because an electronic isn't working.
"Mom? My iPod won't turn on. I'm taking deep breaths like you told me so I don't meltdown but I'm very close to it.." (And then seconds later the iPod is slid through the crack under the door. Um. Can't a chick poo in peace? I even dubbed a term for it when my kids were younger: a PIP. (Poop/Pee in peace.))
My husband joins in. He'll knock on the door and go, "What are you doing in there?"
"Oh, I don't know, Tom. The door is shut, why don't you take a guess?" I'll respond. I mean, really. Duh. And I'm quick in the bathroom too. Unlike Tom, who will spend up to twenty minutes perched on his throne. Maybe I should pound on the door and go, "What are you doing in there?"
WHY DOES EVERYONE NEED MY HELP THE SECOND I TRY TO URINATE?
If I ever come across Santa and he's like, "What do you want for Christmas?" I'll say without hesitation, "A PIP."
I'm featured today at Melissa's blog. Check it out here!