There's a saying, popularized by a last century Chicago song, that goes, "You don't know what you got until it's gone and I found out just a little too late."
That's the song I've been singing every morning in the shower as Child #2 wanders in and out of my open plan bathroom.
I really underestimated the importance of a door!
Our new house is the antidote to our old one. Where, it was old and respectable, this one is newer and modern. Lots of levels, lots of stairs, lots of fun. From outside it kinda looks like a ship.
I love everything about it, except the fact that there is no door to my bathroom.
When I say no door, I don't mean a doorframe space where a door has been removed. I mean a great big open space where bedroom melds into bathroom when you walk around the corner.
Have I mentioned my son likes to talk?
Saying he likes to talk is an understatement, sort of like saying fish enjoy water. My early morning shower time has become his captive audience time. This morning's pre-coffee conversations went like this.
"So, I breeded a Nose Breather and a Funky Monkey and if you had to guess would you say I got Smelly Feet or a T-rexasaurus?"
"It's bred and could you please give me some privacy."
"I am giving you privacy! My back is to you."
"I need you to leave the room!"
"How do you define the room?"
"Where the floors change color. Leave! Now!!"
"How about if I stand at the edge of where the floors change colors so you can still hear me?"
The indignity of my less-than-private shower is compounded by the cheerful chatter that awaits me the minute I step out of the shower.
"Do you think gummy worms contain any vitamins? If you had to pick a number that looks the most like you, what would it be? No really, Mom, you're just saying a number and not thinking about one that looks like you."
This morning, in a weak moment, I sent him back upstairs to see what his sister was doing.
Two minutes later I, along with everyone else in the neighborhood, heard her shriek, "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" Followed by the loud bang of a door.
I know I should feel bad about playing one child against the other, and I really would if only I wasn't so jealous of their doors!