Once upon a time I had some lofty dreams…
I planned to travel the world,
have a huge house,
be a published (and moderately famous) author,
shop couture in
always eat fabulously,
not to mention stay in such great physical shape I could be
a secret ninja spy (if I so chose),
all with a great family.
You know, the usual.
Now…
I’d really love some quality bathroom time alone.
(I know the menfolk know what I mean by “quality time”. *sigh* Such a precious thing. Has anyone
seen my copy of Maxim?)
– wg
OMG! ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!
I love you.
The bathroom is the only place in the world where I get to be a alone for a minute. My job has no privacy, includes more stress than being under sniper fire in Iraq, and the bathroom is the only place I get to catch my breath. Same thing at home. But I’ve told my son not to bother me in there and it works pretty well.
No copies of Maxim here though, it’s moer boring stuff like MacWorld.
Nice weekend
AD
Heck, just a newspaper can keep me happy for an hour.
Heh. Sometimes it’s the little things 😉
To help with your Ninja training, have you heard about the new restaurant in New York named, coincidently enough, Ninja? If not, be sure to visit http://www.ninjanewyork.com/ (and visit the You Tube hosted promotional videos).
If the menu wasn’t so darn expensive, I’d certainly make the 3.5 hour trip … if I recall correctly, you’re out on the other coast, so it might be a little more difficult for you to visit … the original Japan location might work better .
I soooo relate. Our bedroom has a bathroom in it (attached, not like the commode is in the middle of the room, but I think that would make your house of horror list if that were true) and to get quality bathroom time, I have to go in that particular bathroom (as opposed to the other two bathrooms in the house) at a time when my husband is in the room to distract the child and I have to lock the door. That combination of events is the only way I get to use the bathroom in peace.
Only happens about once a week. Yeah, I birthed my dignity out of my body when I birthed my child.
It’s good to see I’m not alone… though it is terribly, terribly sad. And I don’t care what I get to read! As long as I actually get to read something, quietly, uninterrupted, while I do my business.
(Do you think ninjas get more bathroom time?)
Quality bathroom time is my kind of happiness.