Look. I’m a thirsty kinda gal. Ok? I drink my coffee, I drink my water, I drink my wine.
Given that I drink something all day, I tend to frequent the bathroom fairly often.
All that liquid in a tiny bladder abused by two bouncy babies while pregnant will do that to a woman.
So why is it that I can’t spend 60 seconds alone in that bathroom? WHY?
I had to pee. I glance around the house. Kids are playing together in another room, dog is fast asleep, Javadad is downstairs in the office.
A walk to the bathroom. I don’t hear the pitter patter of tiny feet or dog paws following me.
The second I pull down my pants, the first one arrives. She analyzes the situation, then drags her potty closer to me and imitates my action.
20 seconds behind her is the 3yo. “Mommy, Sonja doesn’t want to play with me anymooooreee…”
Next I hear, then see the dog. He wants out. HIS bladder is the size of a prairie province and he was out less than an hour go. Why now?
Of course the family is still incomplete. Javadad has to pick THIS moment to ask me a question. “Where did you say the newspapers are?”
I mean, I spend the LEAST amount of time in the bathroom relatively speaking to the rest of the family and I don’t get 60 seconds of peace to have a pee.