I’m in my (MY) bathroom. With my beautiful talavera tile floor. Sitting. Doing what you do in a bathroom while you sit.
Door flies open. In comes the lil’wrekker flips the nice vanity light on and starts preening and looking close at herself.
I say “excuse me”
She sez…“Ma I need my hair done, my roots are showing”
Again I say “excuse me”
She walks over and starts picking at my hair.
“Oh, Ma!!! Your hair is worse” so much grey. “Ma, it looks horrible, we have to get YOU to the salon, soon!”
I have preached the knock before you enter for years.
The Grandwrex are even versed in it. That don’t necessarily abide my rules. But they know.
The Lil’wrekker just don’t give a crap. She pretty much owns any space she’s in. Sucks all the oxygen out in a room when she enters.
But, boy is she lovable.
And cute.
My gf laughs at the fact I lock my bathroom door. It’s just the two of us and she knows never to enter my bathroom if the door is shut. Yet, I lock it and would position a piano to further block the door, except we don’t own a piano.
Lots of new houses have ‘interior door lock’ keys sitting on top of the door, on the ledge created by the door trim.
Which I always thought was cool.
I wonder if you have/can get/can create door lock keys and stash them similarly, and universally, on/around every locking door inside the house.
[and then use the locks]
Because I’m a big fan of passive solutions (ie, those that don’t rely on well-trained humans doing something that they’re supposed to do), but well understand how medical can mean You Need Access Now.
Many, many years ago when my daughter was just past toddlerdom, my in-laws were over our house for a visit or dinner or something. MIL needed to visit the facilities, and while she was seated, tending to business, my offspring opened the door, went in, sat on the tub, and asked “Whatcha doing, Grandma?”
Oldest COTU has been trying to sneak into the bathroom when it is occupied by a grandparent. I think when she was around four, I told her to knock it off. I KNEW she trying to sneak a peek at Grandpa’s bare butt.
“Forget it, Kid. Grandpa’s butt is MINE, and I don’t share!”
Much embarrassed giggling ensued, and the sneak a peek ceased.
Advance the clock to about six months ago. I was in the bathroom taking a spit bath.*
I was partially disrobed, and was contortioning so as to scrub my various stinky parts. The same COTU busted in, and received an EYEFUL of Grandma in most of her glory!
After finishing my ablutions, I dressed in my day clothes, cleaned up my mess, and then hunted down COTU#1. She was still processing what she had seen, and was deeply mortified by the event.
I explained there is a REASON why doors are closed, and for the rest of her life, she needs to have the utmost respect for closed doors.
“Remember: that which is seen can never be unseen!”
~VOW
spit bath is a very old fashioned term for a quickie wash at a sink, a pot, or a bucket of water. It entails soap and a washcloth, and you clean the stinky parts so as to not offend those near you.
You need a squirt gun. The rule is, anyone who actually enters the bathroom (as opposed to sticking a just-checking head through the door) gets blasted. Fun AND educational! If the squirt gun is too refreshing to be effective, load it with clam juice. Call it “Bigfoot Bile.”
