The lock on my bathroom door is broken. Well, it's not so much broken as it is unable to withstand my two smaller children. Literally, they have found a way to just make the locked door open. I have one of those fancy knobs and their forcing the lock has sometimes caused the outside handle and this long metal piece to fall out. It's really annoying but the door is easy to open. Or so I thought.
This morning I decided that I was going to make one of my own Christmas wishes come true. I was going to go to the bathroom in complete and total silence and privacy. If I need to go to the bathroom or if I have a phone in my hand I go from being a red-headed step child to being the belle of the ball. Instant popularity.
To overcome my passive lock, I locked my bedroom door. My children have perpetrated the following list of evils upon gaining entrance to my master bedroom/bath over the years resulting in a heavy duty utility doorknob with a heavy duty lock being placed where my beautiful, stylish doorknob used to be. It requires a key which we keep hung out of reach (although, working as a team, they have gained access to it twice). Here is the list:
- Used approximately $500 worth of my extensive make up kit to decorate the (at the time) 2 year old carpet with tribal drawings rendered in $35 Bobbi Brown Gel Eyeliner in both brown and black and a large variety of Bare Minerals eye shadows for color and highlight.
- Drew stick figures in Black Sharpie marker on the carpet and left signatures (which did not keep them from arguing their innocence)
- Unwrapped a stack of beautifully wrapped EMPTY lia sophia boxes for a display (they knew they were empty, they watched me wrap them).
- Cut their hair no less than 5 times between the two of them.
- "Cleaned" mom's closet by unhanging everything within their 3 year old reach.
- Used Essie "Jazz" nail polish to decorate the cabinet in our bathroom that their Dad built for me
- Put SEVEN small bars of soap down the toilet at one time and flushed.
- On at least 2 occasions they dumped an entire bottle of shampoo in the Jacuzzi tub while jets were on resulting in an 8 foot high pile of bubbles and a level of giggling that nearly made it worth while.
I'm sure I'm leaving out some of the better ones. Now, back to this morning; I lock my bedroom door, I walk through the open bathroom door, I close it and I lock it. When I'm done, I turn the handle. Nothing happens. Did I mention that I've turned up the TV so that I won't even be able to hear them yelling, "mom, mom, mommmmmmmy" at the door? No? Well, I did. Did I mention that the outside handle had fallen off earlier that morning? No? Well it had; it happened to Olivia and I promptly forgot about it. Did I mention that I am naked except for a fluffy pink bathrobe and that the window to my bathroom is small? No? Well, that's true too.
As it turns out, it's not so much that my lock is passive; it's more that it's passive/aggressive which didn't work in my favor. I keep my house at about 62 degrees and suddenly it felt very warm. I yelled and yelled for the girls. Aidan was sleeping soundly in his bed across the entire house and up a flight of stairs, safely insulated by his ever-present headphones. The girls were busy playing with the Disney Enchanted Castle. No one came. Where was the popularity? Didn't they know I had just used the bathroom privately, with no interruptions? Usually my cell phone is in my pocket. Not when I'm naked in a pink fluffy robe. I tried yelling again, targeting the specifically helpful child.
"Gracie, Gracie, GRACCCCCCCIIIIIIE, mommy needs HELP!" Success.
"Mom," she yelled and I could tell without seeing that her entire little body had been thrown up against my bedroom door, "mom, how did you get stuck in your bedroom?" "Gracie, I'm stuck in the bathroom too, can you go get your brother?"
Suddenly Olivia the spy is interested, "I'll get him, Mom, I'll help save you!" Away they tear to get their brother, Olivia screaming, "Hurry Aidan, our mother is in grave danger, you must come quickly."
The plan was that Aidan (who can reach the keys and is welcome in our room) would unlock the bedroom door, re-assemble the bathroom knob and free me. Who am I kidding? There was no plan and quite honestly I figured he'd just push the door and it would open. The adrenaline induced emergency fueled newly fabricated plan involved the aforementioned lock re-assembly. And, it would have worked except....for once in her life Olivia stopped upon dropping something (the doorknob), picked it up and sat it where she figured it belonged......IN MY BATHROOM!
On to plan C. Aidan had to go out the kitchen door onto the deck and I had to hand him the pieces of the doorknob through the window. The girls heard him, thought he was in the bathroom with me, and started to cry because they wanted to be in there with me. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have stayed in that bathroom alone until someone came looking for me. It probably would have been the highlight of my week.
Aidan re-assembled the lock and I was free. The moral of the story, I think, is that privacy in the bathroom is highly over rated. It's also possible and I would venture to say, probable, that the ghost of my mom was just having a little laugh. Until I was a mom myself, I just thought my mom was one of those people who pees with the door open. As it turns out, she was just a mom who couldn't catch a two minute break by herself. Well Mom, you got me back, I'll never try to go to the bathroom alone again!