I remember a time when the bathroom was a place of solitude. No one followed me in there. No one stared at me or asked questions while I tried to take care of my personal business. I even did my own flushing. Those days seem very far away.
First it was my dog who infiltrated my private time. If I left her outside the bathroom door, she would scratch and whine until she gained entrance. Then my first daughter Dylan joined in the experience. Now there are times when my dog Martini, my toddler Dylan and my 7-month-old Presley are all witness to my bathroom activities. Last week, Dylan offered me two M&M’s if I could make a poopie in the potty. How did it get so crowded in here? Making a visit alone to a public restroom is starting to feel like “me” time.
There is one person that won’t be gaining access to these potty get togethers – my husband. I want a close family but not quite that close. He can have his not-so-private potty time and I can have mine. Trust me, it’s the only way to keep the romance flickering. As for the rest of my studio audience, someday they’ll tire of watching mommy pee. I’ll probably miss them once they’re gone.