With this in mind, I have included one below, originally posted here in December 2007. Hand picked just for you, as I experienced something along these same lines, yet again, this afternoon.
I'd love to tell you that it was my youngest who interrupted my time alone, though he did drop by later to knock and run. No...this was my oldest, my seventeen year old. Her emergency bathroom question hollered through the door jam...
"Mom, can I borrow your eyelash curler?"
I am so grateful that I have had 911/emergency training so I can remain calm while I answer such a life or death question.
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In my opinion, the U.S. Postal Service has overlooked what could possibly be a very profitable mode of mail delivery, bathroom-mail.
I am surprised that our government would clearly miss such a golden opportunity with overwhelming cash cow potential.
After many inquiries, I have discovered that moms all across America frequently use this form of communication with their family.
Just like the Loch Ness monster and Big Foot, I had heard rumors about a bathroom mail carrier when I had my first child. I had even been warned by many expert mothers - not only would my alone time in the bathroom become a distant memory,I would also experience bathroom-mail from time to time.
So why was I surprised when my first delivery arrived, slipped under the door by a dimpled, blond haired, four year old little girl in 1995?
Since then my mail carriers have been both male and female, some cute and some not so cute (those would be my teenage mail carriers). I have had letters, homework, permission slips, report cards, birthday invitations and even notes of affection delivered under my bathroom door.
I have begged, pleaded, cried and even screamed at them, “RETURN TO SENDER!”
From one expert mom to any newbie moms out there, listen up. Your alone time in the bathroom is now a thing of the past - a distant memory, like having an uninterrupted conversation, or thighs without cellulite. As long as you have children living in your home it's guaranteed you will receive bathroom-mail.
Count on it.
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor the shrill screams of an exasperated mother can keep away a bathroom-mail carrier. Not now. Not ever.
8 comments:
I remember this from the first time around, I liked it just as much this time, but I am wondering what your son was doing with an eyelash curler?
I don't have little ones anymore but O how I remember the days when notes were slipped under the bathroom door or the calling out to me, "Mommy are you busy? Can I ask you a question?" It seemed like it only happened when I was in the bathroom but of course I wasn't busy so ask away I would say...
Love you Joanne and thanks for bringing back a special memory.
I laughed my way through this post. I can remember when my girls were little (and not so little) - they NEVER needed me until I was in the bathroom. THen it seemed like it was a matter of life or death!
Thanks for a good laugh!
Beth
Oh yes, I remember the "Mommy, what are you doing?" questions. Now I get "Mom, what's for dinner?" or "Mom can I have this or do that?"
Nobody needs me until I go into the bathroom. Then I am extremely popular. Not only that, noone calls me until I go into the bathroom either. Loved your post and maybe I'll go into the bathroom now just to get a little attention, lol!
LOL! At least you get to shut your door! I haven't been to the bathroom alone (including showers) for 3 1/2 years now. Sigh ...
LOL! So funny and so true!! My son just recently came to the door right after I went in just to tell me that he had a very tiny hole in his shirt - you know, urgent stuff! :)
that's it...i'm seriously introducing the *mail carrier* option to my children. it will be much better than the *fireman approach* bustin' through the door unannounced!
And a new verse to add for you...."count it all joy dear ones when the last birdie leaves the nest...and all is left but you and the dear husband...the bathroom mail will then cease. The dear husband will refuse to write anything, for fear that it may cost him an arm or leg...the privacy issue a thing of the past...but your eyes will gaze, even sometimes longingly, at the space between the door and the floor, in hopes of a note...or at the very least some tiny toes...
And what do you know...but in a few years, the toes will reappear...in the form of GK (grandkids!) and so will a few sporadic notes.
Go with God my dear nearly faint hearted child! Go with God---may HE bless the notes that the bathroom messenger sends! AND bless the peaking toes!
This made me smile with sweet memories Joanne! (I tucked a note to Paul in my post from yesterday :)---Jeff said what does this mean? I said, she'll know :)
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