Close the door!

Everyone hold on to your hats. This is a momentous day. It's a Saturday post. Can you believe it? I'm actually blogging on the weekend. Just before I was getting ready to type, I was overcome with cramps of the bowel kind. So, I went to the bathroom and suffered one of the regular indignities of motherhood: My daughter burst into the bathroom mid-dump (without knocking, mind you) to then proclaim, "Aargh! The smell, the smell."

This is what 36 hours of labor gets me. She immediately retreats before she's overcome by a case of the vapors and leaves the bathroom door wide open. Then I get to look down at my husband at the bottom of the stairs and hear him say, "Why don't you close the door?"

I respond, "I did close it, but then your dauther opened it and left it open."

"Go close the door," he says to the girl.

"No way. I'm not getting near that stink," she answers.

So I finish out my business with the door open while the essence of moi permeates the entire house. But you know, this is par for the course. Privacy? What's that? I think I used to know. Why don't I lock the door, then? Well, I'm not really that concerned. Anyway, the couple of times I have locked the door, my daughter invariably comes up to join me for whatever reason and then pounds on the door until I let her in. It's just easier and less frustrating to grant her free access.