I’m going to go ahead and give a fair warning here; I will be cursing in this post. I’ve been trying to be more ladylike and watch my language, but sometimes, certain things cannot help but bring out the truck driver in me. (I will, however, keep it PG-13.) I think you’ll agree with me as you read on. Because the question of the day is:
WHAT IN THE HELL DO MEN DO FOR 20 MINUTES IN THE GODDAMN BATHROOM THREE TIMES A DAY?
This is a universal issue we need to address. Frankly, if I needed to use the facilities for 20 minutes a pop multiple times a day, I might think about seeing a doctor. I won’t pretend I don’t know what you’re doing in there: catching up on some reading, escaping reality, pretending you don’t hear the cries, maybe...other things, but, really, we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules if you gentleman are going to continue to need so many potty breaks. I’ll do the honors.
You do not get to lock the door. If The Offspring get to barge in on me at any moment, you do not have the right anymore to request “privacy.” (I just laughed thinking about privacy.) Hey guys-ever changed a tampon while your three and five year old are watching? Yeah. Didn’t think so.
Sports or Business section, not both. I’m lucky if I get to read my horoscope, which is only three sentences long. One bathroom session=one newspaper section.
Pick the damn paper up when you are done and put it in the damn recycling bag. I like sports, but I am not going to read about them. And I have enough to feel anxious about, so I’m certainly not going to loiter away precious minutes reading the Business section. I’m pretty sure your intentions were not to leave the paper in the bathroom for me in case I needed some reading material for my 45 second bathroom session, but if it was-NO THANK YOU. I will love you more if you just PUT.IT.AWAY. (This is actually true about most things: laundry, dishes, your bath towel, shoes...and so on...and so on...)
Any shared reading material is Off Limits. Gross. Ryan Gosling’s picture in Vanity Fair will never be same to me if I know he was in there, sharing a session with you. And your iPad has waaayyyy more apps than my mine because YOU HAVE SO MUCH TIME TO READ APPARENTLY, so why do you need my piddly iPad? Let’s just leave my iPad out of the bathroom, shall we?
Needing to use the restroom is no longer a valid excuse to not deal with Whiny Children. Hold it. Yeah. You heard me. HOLD IT. Guess what? I have to pee, too. I usually have to pee. I kind of have to pee right now. But I need to wrap this up, get to the post office and the library before picking up Precious Cargo at school, so I’m going to go ahead and hold it a bit longer. And I’m pretty sure if our children can hold it for 12-18 hours, (or that one time when a certain Son held it for five days...) you can hold it for just a few more minutes while the Little Children realize that their world is not ending. I’m fairly confident you will not have an accident.
Listen, I’m not trying to take away your bathroom breaks, I’m just trying to find a way to make them less annoying. Isn’t that what relationships are all about? Compromise? Granted, I’m just going to go ahead and tell you what the compromises are, but, hey, you never know what kind of...mood...I could get in if certain compromises are met. In a former life, massages and candles and champagne were romantic, but in present life, not seeing the newspaper on the bathroom sink just might be enough to do it for me.
And you wouldn’t want me to cancel our newspaper subscription, would you?
Didn’t think so.