Thursday, July 16, 2009
Flushing a Bad Habit: An Open Letter to Cosmo
During the past several years, I have come to enjoy the bliss and solitude of visiting the loo without the disruption of little people rapping on the door and attempting a conversation from under the closed door. I rather appreciate not being asked, "Are you almost done?" twenty three times. The bathroom is one of the only places in the house where one may seek solitude. Ideally, no one wants to join you while you do your, ummm, business. When my children were very young, I expected this sort of inconvenience. Sure, it was still frustrating, but I knew it was perfectly normal for little ones to seek underfootness at every turn. Now my kids are older and perish the thought of thinking about -- or worse, seeing -- their mother in any position other that handing them food or money. This is supposed to be the time when I can enjoy the little luxuries of life... reading a good book without interruption, watching a grown-up movie from start to finish, a peaceful visit to the lavatory... To my dismay, dear cat, you have seen to it that I may never again embrace the solitude of the washroom sojourn. If I selfishly choose to close the door, you are feverishly pawing at it within seconds. And if I open the door, you won't enter the bathroom. So then I close the door and the pawing picks up again. If I leave the door open slightly, you make a grand entrance and the door flies open, revealing me in a compromising crouch. Tada!! And wouldn't you know that the window in the neighbor's kitchen provides a clear and candid view right into my bathroom. I'm lucky I haven't sprained something whilst crawling across the bathroom floor to shut the door. The solution would be to scoop you up and bring you into the bathroom with me from the beginning, right? Do you, who would prefer that I wear you in a Snuggli on my hip all day, have some sort of annoying plan to suddenly become invisible when I am ready for a bathroom visit? Oh, Cosmo, I love you to pieces, but please let me have a break a few times a day. This habit needs to be seriously flushed.