So, since I posted "Peeing 101" earlier this week, every time that Todd has gone into the powder room bathroom, he has closed the door.
Last night we had my parents over for dinner and my mom said to T "have you been reading Mel's blog?" He said "yes, but probably haven't read it in over a week and a half...sorry honey". So I said "weird! because I just posted about how you use the powder room bathroom without closing the door, and ever since I posted it, you've closed the door when you've gone in there!" He said "oh...well that's just coincidence".
Coincidence? Or the fact that every night after he goes to sleep, I hover over him chanting"close the door when you pee...cloooossseee the dooorrrr when you peeeee". My subliminal messages are working.
They are not, however, working for Whinnie, who managed to pee -- NOT ONCE, but TWICE on the carpet last night while we were sleeping. Seriously, she is so full of pee it's ridiculous. I could probably wring out her bladder so that it was bone dry, and she would still manage to muster up enough liquid to tinkle on the carpet. I need some serious suggestions on how to get her to quit this behavior. (and please don't suggest crating her at night. She is crated from 7:00am to 4:00pm -- and sometimes longer -- daily. I don't find it fair to crate her all night, too.) Guess the only thing left to do is to have my mom teach Whinnie how to read and use a computer so that she can read my blog and TAKE A HINT! After all, my mom did teach her how to sit, shake, lay down, roll over, make the depressed doggie face, and play dead. She's like Cesar Millan!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The land of 80 year olds!
You're probably thinking "walkers, lime jell-o, and snoring...oh joy!" But we're not talking about any regular 80 year olds. We're talking my Grandparents. The infamous Gramma & Grampa K. And while they might enjoy some lime jell-o from time to time (who doesn't!), they don't sit around snoring, and they certainly don't need walkers.
So without further ado, here's a little peek into my afternoon date with two of my most favorite people in the world:
I spent this past Sunday afternoon with my Grandparents. Gramma was in the hospital (the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit to be exact) from last Wednesday - Friday. By the time I got to their apartment on Sunday afternoon, she was back in her stylish clothes, color fully returned to her cheeks, hair styled, and full from a mid-morning brunch with friends. Grampa was also full of energy and bolted down four flights of stairs to let me in their building before I was hardly out of my car. That's right, he ran down the stairs. No elevator for him! But of course, this is the same guy that, without prompting, will stand on one leg in the middle of a crowded restaurant while asking strangers to "guess how old I am? No really, guess?!"
I went over to G&G's with full intentions of a lazy afternoon of chatting and watching old re-runs on TVLand -- figuring they'd tire of me shortly before dinner (which is at 4:30pm).
About an hour into my visit, after Grampa had happily filled a plastic bag with all of the "gifts" he'd been saving up to give my mom (mainly office supplies -- sorry mom!), and shown me a few things around his office, we somehow got on the subject of PacMan. Specifically, the plug-in PacMan game they have for their TV, which they got for about $12 at Toys 'R Us. Grampa decided we should hook up the PacMan and I should show off my 'skills' (or lack there of). I played about 20 consecutive games, certain they were bored with watching me play. But no sooner had I declared "ok, that's probably enough" than Grampa jumped up from his seat and moved me to the side so he could take a turn. He played a few games and then insisted that Gramma play. One game in and she beat -- no scratch that -- she CRUSHED both of our high scores. She claimed it was because she had 20+ years of PacMan playing experience under her belt. I think she secretly plays at night, after Grampa goes to bed. Finishing just before he gets up at 3:00am to exercise. I KNOW, 3:00am, right?? You'd be hard pressed to find me getting up before 9:00am for any reason other than a work day...and definitely not to exercise. But hey, that's why at 80+ years old, he can stand on one leg while doing the hand jive and reciting the alphabet backwards.
Mid PacMan play, Grampa looked at Gramma and said "what do you think...Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner?" Before Gramma could say "ok!" Grampa turned to me and said "what do you think, want to join us at Kentucky Fried for dinner?" I was slightly tentative because I'm not a big fried chicken fan...but it was my Grandparents, who I rarely get alone time with so I happily accepted the invitation! And then I remembered it was a KFC/Taco bell...and well...we all know I love some taco bell.
So another hour of PacMan, and at 4:30pm on the dot, we all jumped up to get ready to head to KFC. Seeing as it had been particularly warm for a January day, I had been sans coat when I arrived that afternoon. But seeing as Grampa will wear a windbreaker in July, he made me try on one of their coats (which shockingly fit! I'm like an amazon compared to my grandparents)...and then "suggested" that I wear the coat...just in case. I tried to convince them that I was plenty warm enough, but they didn't buy it, so I brought the coat along. (And yes, I even put it on a few times. Not just to appease them, but because Grampa was right -- it had gotten cold out.)
At dinner G&G split a 4 piece chicken dinner and I had two crunchy tacos, which Grampa shook his head at because he thought I should've eaten more for dinner. But thank goodness I didn't because before we had even finished dinner, he suggested we hit up McDonald's for dessert. Grampa, who LOVES McDonald's coupons, had just given me a stack which contained coupons for free hot chocolates. When we got to McDonald's, he was upset to learn he had no coupons with him. Fortunately I had the coupons he just gave me in my purse. It took a lot of convincing to get him to take my coupons...but he promised he would mail me new ones the next day (even though I have about 25 more at home). So we got hot chocolates and sundaes and apple pies. (Which, by the way, Grampa and I were both shocked to find out that one apple pie at McD's costs 99 cents. But two apple pies at McD's? $1. Maddening.) So Grampa got two pies and told me to take the other one home. I put it in my purse...and then forgot it was in there until the next morning...whoops. Fortunately only 1 cent was wasted.
While we were at McD's, I'm pretty sure there was a table of gang members sitting behind us. I was very uneasy, but G&G were completely un-phased. So much so, that when we stood up to leave, Grampa started a conversation with them, told them he'd been in 3 wars, and showed them how he could stand on one leg. They didn't speak much English, but seemed extremely amused none-the-less. And one of them even asked me if I was married. I'm pretty sure I actually heard his heart break when I told him that in fact, I was.
I was beyond relieved when we got back in Grampa's mafia car (no seriously, that's what I call it because it's a huge, beautiful, black Buick that looks like a serious Italian mafia Godfather would own it), and locked the doors. We headed back to their apartment and they dropped me off at my car. We all kissed goodbye and they thanked me for spending time with them. But in actuality, I was the one who was most grateful that they allowed me to spend the afternoon/evening with them. I feel truly blessed to have them both in my life still, and while completely quirky and a bit hilarious, I wouldn't have changed a single thing about that day...except next time, I'm getting there earlier!
And much to my surprise, when I got home from work yesterday Todd said "there's a letter from your Grandparents in the mail". Sure enough, it was a sweet note from my Gramma, and the free hot chocolate coupons from McD's, along with a couple of extra coupons with a note from Grampa that said "thought you deserved some interest on the loan". But truth be told, spending that time with them was all the reward I needed. It was truly priceless. And I can't wait for the next adventure in the land of 80+ year olds! :)
So without further ado, here's a little peek into my afternoon date with two of my most favorite people in the world:
I spent this past Sunday afternoon with my Grandparents. Gramma was in the hospital (the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit to be exact) from last Wednesday - Friday. By the time I got to their apartment on Sunday afternoon, she was back in her stylish clothes, color fully returned to her cheeks, hair styled, and full from a mid-morning brunch with friends. Grampa was also full of energy and bolted down four flights of stairs to let me in their building before I was hardly out of my car. That's right, he ran down the stairs. No elevator for him! But of course, this is the same guy that, without prompting, will stand on one leg in the middle of a crowded restaurant while asking strangers to "guess how old I am? No really, guess?!"
I went over to G&G's with full intentions of a lazy afternoon of chatting and watching old re-runs on TVLand -- figuring they'd tire of me shortly before dinner (which is at 4:30pm).
About an hour into my visit, after Grampa had happily filled a plastic bag with all of the "gifts" he'd been saving up to give my mom (mainly office supplies -- sorry mom!), and shown me a few things around his office, we somehow got on the subject of PacMan. Specifically, the plug-in PacMan game they have for their TV, which they got for about $12 at Toys 'R Us. Grampa decided we should hook up the PacMan and I should show off my 'skills' (or lack there of). I played about 20 consecutive games, certain they were bored with watching me play. But no sooner had I declared "ok, that's probably enough" than Grampa jumped up from his seat and moved me to the side so he could take a turn. He played a few games and then insisted that Gramma play. One game in and she beat -- no scratch that -- she CRUSHED both of our high scores. She claimed it was because she had 20+ years of PacMan playing experience under her belt. I think she secretly plays at night, after Grampa goes to bed. Finishing just before he gets up at 3:00am to exercise. I KNOW, 3:00am, right?? You'd be hard pressed to find me getting up before 9:00am for any reason other than a work day...and definitely not to exercise. But hey, that's why at 80+ years old, he can stand on one leg while doing the hand jive and reciting the alphabet backwards.
Mid PacMan play, Grampa looked at Gramma and said "what do you think...Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner?" Before Gramma could say "ok!" Grampa turned to me and said "what do you think, want to join us at Kentucky Fried for dinner?" I was slightly tentative because I'm not a big fried chicken fan...but it was my Grandparents, who I rarely get alone time with so I happily accepted the invitation! And then I remembered it was a KFC/Taco bell...and well...we all know I love some taco bell.
So another hour of PacMan, and at 4:30pm on the dot, we all jumped up to get ready to head to KFC. Seeing as it had been particularly warm for a January day, I had been sans coat when I arrived that afternoon. But seeing as Grampa will wear a windbreaker in July, he made me try on one of their coats (which shockingly fit! I'm like an amazon compared to my grandparents)...and then "suggested" that I wear the coat...just in case. I tried to convince them that I was plenty warm enough, but they didn't buy it, so I brought the coat along. (And yes, I even put it on a few times. Not just to appease them, but because Grampa was right -- it had gotten cold out.)
At dinner G&G split a 4 piece chicken dinner and I had two crunchy tacos, which Grampa shook his head at because he thought I should've eaten more for dinner. But thank goodness I didn't because before we had even finished dinner, he suggested we hit up McDonald's for dessert. Grampa, who LOVES McDonald's coupons, had just given me a stack which contained coupons for free hot chocolates. When we got to McDonald's, he was upset to learn he had no coupons with him. Fortunately I had the coupons he just gave me in my purse. It took a lot of convincing to get him to take my coupons...but he promised he would mail me new ones the next day (even though I have about 25 more at home). So we got hot chocolates and sundaes and apple pies. (Which, by the way, Grampa and I were both shocked to find out that one apple pie at McD's costs 99 cents. But two apple pies at McD's? $1. Maddening.) So Grampa got two pies and told me to take the other one home. I put it in my purse...and then forgot it was in there until the next morning...whoops. Fortunately only 1 cent was wasted.
While we were at McD's, I'm pretty sure there was a table of gang members sitting behind us. I was very uneasy, but G&G were completely un-phased. So much so, that when we stood up to leave, Grampa started a conversation with them, told them he'd been in 3 wars, and showed them how he could stand on one leg. They didn't speak much English, but seemed extremely amused none-the-less. And one of them even asked me if I was married. I'm pretty sure I actually heard his heart break when I told him that in fact, I was.
I was beyond relieved when we got back in Grampa's mafia car (no seriously, that's what I call it because it's a huge, beautiful, black Buick that looks like a serious Italian mafia Godfather would own it), and locked the doors. We headed back to their apartment and they dropped me off at my car. We all kissed goodbye and they thanked me for spending time with them. But in actuality, I was the one who was most grateful that they allowed me to spend the afternoon/evening with them. I feel truly blessed to have them both in my life still, and while completely quirky and a bit hilarious, I wouldn't have changed a single thing about that day...except next time, I'm getting there earlier!
And much to my surprise, when I got home from work yesterday Todd said "there's a letter from your Grandparents in the mail". Sure enough, it was a sweet note from my Gramma, and the free hot chocolate coupons from McD's, along with a couple of extra coupons with a note from Grampa that said "thought you deserved some interest on the loan". But truth be told, spending that time with them was all the reward I needed. It was truly priceless. And I can't wait for the next adventure in the land of 80+ year olds! :)
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
6 months!
Yesterday marked the six month anniversary of the best day of my life!
Todd bought me an awesome Rock of Ages framed poster as an "anniversary gift" against his better protests that 6 months does not need to be celebrated, and the real celebration should be saved for the first 1 year anniversary.
But alas, he bought me the poster because he had heard me say "our walls are too blank" (he IS listening!) and because he had the insanely adorable idea to buy posters from all of the Broadway productions we have seen/will see in the future to keep a running record on display in our home. Seriously? A man thought up that idea? LOVE IT. LOVE HIM.
And, since he surprisingly had the evening off from work, he stopped by the grocery store on his way home and bought lots of food to make me a gourmet meal -- broiled tilapia, veggies, homemade curly fries (which was an appetizer because we devoured them the minute they came out of the fryer and they never hit our plates), and Texas toast because we're obsessed with it and currently have 3 unopened boxes in our freezer. Carb overload. Delicious -- every last bite.
After dinner we had coffee and ice cream (bad, I know) and watched TV together on the couch. It was perfect 6 month anniversary celebration, even if he didn't intentionally mean for it to unfold that way!
Later Todd marinated pork tenderloin in a homemade marinade to cook another delish dinner for me on Thursday night. My live-in chef has returned! I'm overjoyed! As is my waistline! Wait...no it's not. But who cares!
Todd bought me an awesome Rock of Ages framed poster as an "anniversary gift" against his better protests that 6 months does not need to be celebrated, and the real celebration should be saved for the first 1 year anniversary.
But alas, he bought me the poster because he had heard me say "our walls are too blank" (he IS listening!) and because he had the insanely adorable idea to buy posters from all of the Broadway productions we have seen/will see in the future to keep a running record on display in our home. Seriously? A man thought up that idea? LOVE IT. LOVE HIM.
And, since he surprisingly had the evening off from work, he stopped by the grocery store on his way home and bought lots of food to make me a gourmet meal -- broiled tilapia, veggies, homemade curly fries (which was an appetizer because we devoured them the minute they came out of the fryer and they never hit our plates), and Texas toast because we're obsessed with it and currently have 3 unopened boxes in our freezer. Carb overload. Delicious -- every last bite.
After dinner we had coffee and ice cream (bad, I know) and watched TV together on the couch. It was perfect 6 month anniversary celebration, even if he didn't intentionally mean for it to unfold that way!
Later Todd marinated pork tenderloin in a homemade marinade to cook another delish dinner for me on Thursday night. My live-in chef has returned! I'm overjoyed! As is my waistline! Wait...no it's not. But who cares!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Baby Fever is back.
Jess just brought up her gorgeous 6 month old (is that right, Jess?) baby girl, Carly for a surprise visit and she is awesome! So cuddly and adorable and giggly and she put my new handmade scarf that the boss brought me back from his trip to Vietnam, straight in her mouth. I loved every second of it. Even the baby drool on the scarf.
I want one.
Sorry, hubby :)
I want one.
Sorry, hubby :)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Oh Mom.
This morning my mom emailed Matt (my brother) and I Glory Day's coupons and wrote in the email "In case you wanted to use your Glory Days gift cards, here's a coupon to use with them!"
I wrote back..."Glory Days gift card? What does that mean?" ya know, because I didn't have a Glory Days gift card (that I was aware of).
My mom wrote back "oh bummer. I just remembered I was going to send the gift cards in your Valentine's Day cards that I haven't sent yet. :("
She definitely ruined her own surprise.
Don't worry mom, I will love the gift card (and you!) regardless! :)
I wrote back..."Glory Days gift card? What does that mean?" ya know, because I didn't have a Glory Days gift card (that I was aware of).
My mom wrote back "oh bummer. I just remembered I was going to send the gift cards in your Valentine's Day cards that I haven't sent yet. :("
She definitely ruined her own surprise.
Don't worry mom, I will love the gift card (and you!) regardless! :)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
This morning's conversation...
Todd has been working doubles all week. (Fortunately today is his last one until next Tuesday. We're headed to Scranton and New York with the Schwass' for the long weekend! Can't wait!)
Because of these doubles, our full interaction has been a short 5 minute morning routine of: kiss goodbye, brief talk while T's eyes are still closed, me saying things like "have a good day. Do you need me to take that $$ to the bank? I'm going to the gym later. Don't forget to let Whinnie poop. I love you." etc. etc. while T aimlessly mumbles back something about "mmphave a good day too...she always poops...no bank. work out. love you."
And then the short evening routine, which, if I'm still awake involves: Whinnie barking like a mad dog as Todd puts his key in the door, Whinnie immediately there after peeing on the floor in excitement of seeing T for the first time in 14 hours, followed by kissing hello, 3-5 minutes of TV, asking Todd how his day was, him telling me how much $$ he made, me turning off the TV while he's standing directly in front of it catching the last second of whatever awful show I'm watching, both of us turning off all the lights, climbing the stairs to bed, kissing goodnight, and passing out.
However...more recently, I have been having a hard time trying to stay awake waiting for T to get home. So I have been climbing the stairs to the bedroom alone, and closing my eyes to the sound of Alton Brown & Good Eats (you KNOW he's on every single night) while attempting to stay semi-awake so that I can perform at least 1/3 of our usual nightly routine (ask how his day was and kiss goodnight) with my eyes closed.
But apparently sometimes I'm so tired that my body goes to sleep, while my mind stays awake.
Hence this morning's conversation:
(As I'm kissing Todd goodbye this morning) Me: "Have a good day honey, love you!"
T: (still with eyes closed) "We had an interesting conversation last night"
Me: "We did? About what?"
T: "I'm not really sure what you meant, but you kept saying 'Whinnie's the only dog here! She's the only dog in the house!'"
Me: "What does that mean??"
T: (yes, eyes still closed)"I have no idea! I almost wrote it down...but then I knew I would remember this morning. You just kept insisting 'She's the only dog here!'"
Me: "Well...she was the only dog in the house last night..."
T: "yeaaahhh....Have a good day, honey..."
Maybe my sub-conscious was actually so excited for Todd to be home that I was performing a rap song in my sleep.
Don't be surprised if I top the charts with that one in the next few months. And clearly I will title my album "The only dog here!" to the tune of Larry Pratt's (American Idol) "Pants on the ground".
Because of these doubles, our full interaction has been a short 5 minute morning routine of: kiss goodbye, brief talk while T's eyes are still closed, me saying things like "have a good day. Do you need me to take that $$ to the bank? I'm going to the gym later. Don't forget to let Whinnie poop. I love you." etc. etc. while T aimlessly mumbles back something about "mmphave a good day too...she always poops...no bank. work out. love you."
And then the short evening routine, which, if I'm still awake involves: Whinnie barking like a mad dog as Todd puts his key in the door, Whinnie immediately there after peeing on the floor in excitement of seeing T for the first time in 14 hours, followed by kissing hello, 3-5 minutes of TV, asking Todd how his day was, him telling me how much $$ he made, me turning off the TV while he's standing directly in front of it catching the last second of whatever awful show I'm watching, both of us turning off all the lights, climbing the stairs to bed, kissing goodnight, and passing out.
However...more recently, I have been having a hard time trying to stay awake waiting for T to get home. So I have been climbing the stairs to the bedroom alone, and closing my eyes to the sound of Alton Brown & Good Eats (you KNOW he's on every single night) while attempting to stay semi-awake so that I can perform at least 1/3 of our usual nightly routine (ask how his day was and kiss goodnight) with my eyes closed.
But apparently sometimes I'm so tired that my body goes to sleep, while my mind stays awake.
Hence this morning's conversation:
(As I'm kissing Todd goodbye this morning) Me: "Have a good day honey, love you!"
T: (still with eyes closed) "We had an interesting conversation last night"
Me: "We did? About what?"
T: "I'm not really sure what you meant, but you kept saying 'Whinnie's the only dog here! She's the only dog in the house!'"
Me: "What does that mean??"
T: (yes, eyes still closed)"I have no idea! I almost wrote it down...but then I knew I would remember this morning. You just kept insisting 'She's the only dog here!'"
Me: "Well...she was the only dog in the house last night..."
T: "yeaaahhh....Have a good day, honey..."
Maybe my sub-conscious was actually so excited for Todd to be home that I was performing a rap song in my sleep.
Don't be surprised if I top the charts with that one in the next few months. And clearly I will title my album "The only dog here!" to the tune of Larry Pratt's (American Idol) "Pants on the ground".
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Peeing 101
Allow me to preface this post by stating that while the title involves the word "peeing", this is in fact NOT a post about Whinnie. Shocking, I know. Also, this may be a little "TMI"(too much information) for some, so you might want to stop reading now. Moving on.
Until Todd and I bought our house, I had never lived with a guy before, other than my Dad and brother.
Growing up, we had a strict "going to the bathroom means bathroom door is closed" policy. I would be crucially embarrassed if I sat down to do my business and suddenly realized, mid-pee, that there was no TP in the bathroom, leaving me no other option than to have to holler to my mom or dad and ask them if they could throw a roll in the bathroom. (Meaning, open the door just a crack wide enough to stick your arm in and toss the roll aimlessly across the bathroom, hoping it reaches me.)
I grew up hating it when my mom would try to talk to me in public restrooms when we were using side-by-side stalls. I just wanted to finish peeing as fast as possible, so that I could escape the horror of the public restroom. ***(read great addendum at bottom)*
When I went "off to college" (or rather, moved into the dorms approximately 2.5 miles from my parents front step), my bathroom behavior remained the same. The door was always closed. Unless, you know, a couple of us girls were at a frat party and refused to wait single-file in line, so we all piled into the tiny (and typically disgusting) frat house bathrooms and took turns hovering, while continuing our sorority girl cackling. But, we were all girls. And, at that point we were typically a sick-pack deep and probably could have peed in someones house plant and not really cared. Liquid courage I guess.
Fast forward several years to the land of home-ownership and marriage. Which brought about our very own powder room. (You know, a first floor bathroom with just a toilet and sink -- and I hear a lot of them have mirrors too, but ours is missing...ask my husband why). And which brings forth my topic of discussion:
Is it OK to pee with the bathroom door open, if it's just you and your spouse in the house?
Todd seems to think it's totally fine to use the powder room with the door open. And more so, he seems to think it's totally fine to continue on with our conversations as he does so. Once I even caught him heading in there to pee, while we were having a conversation, and I was making dinner in the kitchen! Yes, the kitchen that is directly opposite from the powder room! He ended up closing the door that time...
I'm not saying it bothers me to hear peeing sounds. We've all used public restrooms before. There's no escaping the sound. And it's not like he leaves the door open when we have company over. He does have manners. And he ALWAYS washes his hands. Yet every single time he goes into the powder room, I can't help but call to him from the couch "are you leaving the door open?" It's an automatic reflex.
I asked a set of our married friends if they thought it odd for one spouse to pee, with the door open, while carrying on a conversation with the other spouse. They said it was normal married life behavior. So much so, that they rarely close their bathroom door...and have been known to do even "more business" while carrying on a conversation. Now THAT'S a comfort level I don't think I'll ever reach. (Names withheld to protect the innocent...or I suppose I should say, the guilty!)
I guess it's just one of those quirks of marriage that takes some getting used to. I'm sure Todd would prefer I closed the bathroom door when tweezing my eyebrows or applying my "war paint" (concealer/make-up as he calls it).
And I'm sure it could always be worse. He could be pooping in the basement and not telling anybody.
But then again, that's what we have Whinnie for.
*Funny story -- one time my mom and I were using the restroom at Olive Garden. She thought she had gone in the stall right next to mine, but in actuality she went one stall over, so there was someone in the stall between ours. Well, middle lady let out a loud rip-roaring fart, and my mom (who typically scolds public flatulence) busted up laughing and said "GOOD ONE MELIS!" real loud. After we finished, as we were washing our hands, I mouthed to her "that wasn't me", just as a little old lady with a cane walked out of the middle stall. We could barely get out of the restroom fast enough before we both doubled over with laughter. My mom no longer tries to continue conversations with me upon entering public restroom stalls.
Until Todd and I bought our house, I had never lived with a guy before, other than my Dad and brother.
Growing up, we had a strict "going to the bathroom means bathroom door is closed" policy. I would be crucially embarrassed if I sat down to do my business and suddenly realized, mid-pee, that there was no TP in the bathroom, leaving me no other option than to have to holler to my mom or dad and ask them if they could throw a roll in the bathroom. (Meaning, open the door just a crack wide enough to stick your arm in and toss the roll aimlessly across the bathroom, hoping it reaches me.)
I grew up hating it when my mom would try to talk to me in public restrooms when we were using side-by-side stalls. I just wanted to finish peeing as fast as possible, so that I could escape the horror of the public restroom. ***(read great addendum at bottom)*
When I went "off to college" (or rather, moved into the dorms approximately 2.5 miles from my parents front step), my bathroom behavior remained the same. The door was always closed. Unless, you know, a couple of us girls were at a frat party and refused to wait single-file in line, so we all piled into the tiny (and typically disgusting) frat house bathrooms and took turns hovering, while continuing our sorority girl cackling. But, we were all girls. And, at that point we were typically a sick-pack deep and probably could have peed in someones house plant and not really cared. Liquid courage I guess.
Fast forward several years to the land of home-ownership and marriage. Which brought about our very own powder room. (You know, a first floor bathroom with just a toilet and sink -- and I hear a lot of them have mirrors too, but ours is missing...ask my husband why). And which brings forth my topic of discussion:
Is it OK to pee with the bathroom door open, if it's just you and your spouse in the house?
Todd seems to think it's totally fine to use the powder room with the door open. And more so, he seems to think it's totally fine to continue on with our conversations as he does so. Once I even caught him heading in there to pee, while we were having a conversation, and I was making dinner in the kitchen! Yes, the kitchen that is directly opposite from the powder room! He ended up closing the door that time...
I'm not saying it bothers me to hear peeing sounds. We've all used public restrooms before. There's no escaping the sound. And it's not like he leaves the door open when we have company over. He does have manners. And he ALWAYS washes his hands. Yet every single time he goes into the powder room, I can't help but call to him from the couch "are you leaving the door open?" It's an automatic reflex.
I asked a set of our married friends if they thought it odd for one spouse to pee, with the door open, while carrying on a conversation with the other spouse. They said it was normal married life behavior. So much so, that they rarely close their bathroom door...and have been known to do even "more business" while carrying on a conversation. Now THAT'S a comfort level I don't think I'll ever reach. (Names withheld to protect the innocent...or I suppose I should say, the guilty!)
I guess it's just one of those quirks of marriage that takes some getting used to. I'm sure Todd would prefer I closed the bathroom door when tweezing my eyebrows or applying my "war paint" (concealer/make-up as he calls it).
And I'm sure it could always be worse. He could be pooping in the basement and not telling anybody.
But then again, that's what we have Whinnie for.
*Funny story -- one time my mom and I were using the restroom at Olive Garden. She thought she had gone in the stall right next to mine, but in actuality she went one stall over, so there was someone in the stall between ours. Well, middle lady let out a loud rip-roaring fart, and my mom (who typically scolds public flatulence) busted up laughing and said "GOOD ONE MELIS!" real loud. After we finished, as we were washing our hands, I mouthed to her "that wasn't me", just as a little old lady with a cane walked out of the middle stall. We could barely get out of the restroom fast enough before we both doubled over with laughter. My mom no longer tries to continue conversations with me upon entering public restroom stalls.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)