We've all had that moment in the lew, when things were getting "complicated" and suddenly matters, that haven't quit been worked out yet, get more complicated by interruptions and people, and animals. And things, well they just don't go right. It's the classic Poo Pot Stage Fright Syndrome (PPSFS). You've all heard of it.
At some point when my son was an infant, I started leaving the door open during poo pot time, for a whole list of obsessively, overprotective, parenting reasons. I'll just call this choice an "error in judgement" for now. Of course, this error became a habit. Well bad habits have a way of inviting company, so my open access bathroom breaks made everyone, and everything, feel entitled to be in on the whole dang show.
But before this error in judgment milestone. I did shut the door. Now, trying to shut the door for five minutes of peace, is futile when you have a house full of heathens. It results in the entire household population melting down into a chorus of barking, meowing, scratching, and bawling. The paws, the long slobbery tongues, the baby patty cakes, all simultaneously, contortionistcally and acrobatically trying to squeeze through the 1 inch gap under the door during the poorly orchestrated out of tune violin concert of crazy on the other side of the door.
But then. They evolved. Into just learning how to open the door. So. Simple. I don't know when! I don't know how! Maybe they did some sort of canine, feline, human pyramid thing that should have been caught on video and gone viral. I'm not sure. But nevertheless. They were in. And so, as I said: resistance is futile. So the door stays open. Locking is not an option because of all the crazy concert acrobatic stuff I mentioned earlier oh, and helicopter parenting techniques. Besides, It's not like listening to all this racket and hoping and praying babies don't get trampled on by dogs, and dogs don't get smacked around by babies, is peaceful, or helpful to the situation, anyway!
But now. I have a neeeeew, seemingly, more complicated problem.
Company. With no - buffer - zone.
Enter Ruthie. The great dane. Okay. Seriously. I don't need to say anymore. Do I? Except to maybe mention that this is all going on in a guest bath. Yeah. Guests get the crappy little, bathrooms that you can barely turn around in remember. Oh, and maybe I should also mention that Ruthie is a puppy, so that's awesome, and that she can already look down on me, when I'm, on this particular seat. So. Ruthie. In the bathroom. And here we are. Awesome.
Enter Blue: K. Blue is one of those manipulative, co-dependent, little giant dogs who tries to be somewhat superhero-ish by being somewhat invisible-ish and also by controlling your mind and making you think that he is in fact, hated by you unless you're holding him, even though he weighs 100 pounds. He does all this with his sad, not blue but x-ray eyes, and slinky almost invisible sideling. He sits at the door, then, okay she's not yelling at me to get out, so, inch. Okay, sweet! I made it in a whole inch! She didn't yell at me again! So, inch, inch, inch. And then suddenly, his nose and giant head are where no dog nose and giant head should ever be when you're doing what I am doing. But I didn't realize what was happening because of the invisibleness. Get it?
Then the cat comes in and winds around and around and around and around, my legs while I'm sitting there. And, oh! What the heck! Just jump up in my lap too. No worries. And then. After I won't pet him because, well, I'm BUSY!, He just sits there. On the side of the sink, and stares at me with his judgmental, yellow eyes. Making me all, uncomfortable, and stuff.
In comes baby daddy. "Where's the keys to the car? And the What's There Names are coming over for dinner, so what do we have to eat? Did you get the mail? Are you almost done? " Say Whaaaaa? What was I in here for again? Why am I pants less with all these animals and people? I don't recall.
Then, in comes kid number 1. With a big sheet of stickers. "Where'd you get those stickers?" "In my playroom!" Crap. I forgot they were in there, now they are going to be everywhere!
"Here mommy, let me help you!" Oh. Thank you! Thank you so much for the thumb size piece of toilet paper, that will be an enormous help. "Momma! You're doing such a great job! Here's a sticker." Oh right. We give out stickers for potty training. Oh, but wait, um, where are you sticking that? Oh, I get more than one? Um, thank you? Wait, where are you sticking that? Why?
Kid number 2. Tearing up toilet paper and yelling "POOOOOOP!" at the top of her lungs over, and over, and over, and over, when someone is in the bathroom are her favorite things. So....that's how all that goes. And, no, I don't need help wiping. But thanks for offering. I'll just go ahead and use this little pin head size piece of paper you ripped off for me. I can do it all by myself with this. Oh, and thanks for courtesy flushing for me 80 times. That was awesome! Now I want a bidet.
I mean seriously. I want to have more kids, and maybe more animals too, like chickens, and maybe some goats and stuff, but like, logistically, we won't all fit in this bathroom at one time, so, I guess that's all outta the question. Rats.
No big deal. I can poop when I'm dead right? Isn't that what they say?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go remove all these adhesive smiley faces from my REAR!
