This morning I’m sitting in the bathroom, space heater blaring, and reading blogs. It is a small escape from the responsibilities of my life. Just for a few minutes, I want to be alone.
Suddenly, the bathroom door moves and in pops a fuzzy white nose. Norah. My little 12 year old pekepoo.
“Whatcha doin’, Mama?”
“I have to go out. Again.”
And with a last look that says, “Please hurry.” Norah leaves, the bathroom door now cracked open.
Just a few more minutes, just another moment of freedom, please. I continue reading, looking for new and inspiring blogs to add some humor to my day. Then, another nose in the door: This one is gray and of a feline persuasion. Nan.
“Hi, Mama. Just thought I’d stop in.”
“Can you open the other door, please? I hate closed doors.”
“I know. But not right now.”
“Maybe later then.” (She exits out the same door, disgusted)
Clearly, I need to improve my hiding techniques. I used to have a walk-in closet where I could hide for at least 10 minutes before they found me. Now, we’ve moved into a smaller place and there simply isn’t a way to escape.
I may never pee alone again…