is your hair on fire??!

the bathroom is where i meet up with alien to have a string of kid-less minutes.  

while huddled in the bathroom with the fan motored on and npr turned up to drown our conversation from eavesdroppers... we review our parenting plan, regroup after chaos ensued, look at each other in disbelief and whisper what the fuck were we thinking.    we confer about big decisions such as should bert be able to date roni's best friend (no way jose) or medium sized decisions like do we impose consequences on wim for blowing a red light and getting a citation (yes, he'll pay the balance on the raise in his insurance rate, along with his fine).   this is where we make the most important rock-paper-scissors decisions to determine who has to stay with the kids so the other one can take a breather from the madness for an hour.

to keep up the charade of being a good mom, i had to absolutely demand my bathroom privacy.    i noticed that alien was rarely knocked on, rarely called, rarely bothered .  he seemed to enjoy unfettered access to bathroom privacy.   envious, i took action.   i realized i could not possibly resist the intense urge to impulsively scream back at my teen, "i'm ruining YOUR life?? the feeling's mutual!!",  if i had no where to run to, no where to hide to calm down.   (or as wim would say "the feeling's neutral", i'll work on a post listing the wim-isms, they are aplenty.)  

so, the bathroom is the one place in the house that is off limits when the door is closed.  if you knock on that door or call 'mom' while i am behind the closed bathroom door, you better be bleeding profusely or your hair up in flames.  after one too many feverish knocks from pitiful paper cuts and small gashes ... i went over, in graphic detail, what 'bleeding profusely' looks like.  and finally, i achieved... uninterrupted bathroom time.   

of course, i take care of other business in the bathroom as well.  in fact, this is my preferred resting spot to catch up on all my words with friends games.   good thing i got the kids all trained in on the no-knock off-limits rule before the smartphone was invented.