
Ode
to a Quiet Bathroom
by
mimi greenwood knight
This year Ill turn forty. Im just waiting for my
husband to ask me what I want for my birthday. Ive got
my answer all prepared. Its probably not what he expects
though. In the years before kids, hed have gotten off
easy with jewelry or clothes, dinner out and a gift certificate
to a day spa. But after 10 years and three kids, my idea of
the perfect birthday gift has evolved. What I want this year,
what I really want is four hours alone and uninterrupted in
my own bathroom. Just peace and quiet and porcelain. I suppose
that makes me a cheap date but, after ten years of doing whatever
Ive got to do in the bathroom with an audience, four hours
of bathroom solitude sounds better than anything he can charge
on his Mastercard or wrap in black Over the Hill
gift wrap.
My birthday fantasy looks like thisme loitering in the
tub with my eyes closed. Around me are no action figures, no
stick on alphabet letters, no naked Barbies (Talk about depressing.
The last thing I need, when Im bent over shaving my legs,
is a naked Barbie smirking up at me.) I want no little urchins
there to offer commentary on my breasts or belly or buttocks
or anything else. I dont want to hear that Im getting
fat but Dont worry, Mommy, you look good that way.
I want to shave my legs without delivering a safety lecture
about my razor. I dont want to share my shaving cream
with anyone no matter how much fun it is. I want to fog up the
mirror without having to peak around the curtain and answer,
What letter is this, Mommy? Well, what letter is this?
I want the curtain to stay shut- not be fanned open every few
seconds leaving me to explain once again the mechanics of a
shower curtain keeping the water OFF the floor.
I
want the water as hot as I can stand it and not to hear that
anyone is taking up all the room. I want all the room. I dont
once want to hear, Oops! Guess I forgot to tinkle before
I got in the tub. I want to stretch out my legs without
it being seen as an invitation for a pony ride. I want to step
from the tub without hearing, Boy, the water goes way
down when you get out, Mommy! and to towel off without
having to teach an anatomy lesson entitled, Why Mommy
looks different than Daddy.
And while Im at it, I want to do what I need to on the
toilet without spectators. Not to have to remember who tore
off the toilet paper for me the last time so Im sure everyone
gets their turn. I want to pick up a magazine, read an article
from start to finish, and actually comprehend what Im
reading. I want to close the door and not have little notes
slid underneath with my name on them or tiny fingers wiggling
up at me.
Then I want to paint my nails- only mine- no one elses.
Not to have the But, Sweetie, nail polish is for girls
and mommies. Not boys talk which is usually followed that
evening by the Oh, Honey, I only did his toenails
talk. I want to give myself a pedicure, a facial, and touch
up my roots without once stopping to yell, Im in
the bathroom. No, I cant come to you. You come to me.
I dont really care where my husband takes the kids. I
just want four unbroken hours to luxuriate in my own bathroom
ALONE! Maybe Ill remind him while hes sitting in
the McDonalds play yard staring at his watch that hes
turning fifty this year and Im toying with the idea of
declaring the remote control off limits to anyone but Daddy
for one long, glorious afternoon. Consider the possibilities.
(Originally
published in Todays Christian Woman Magazine)