When I was about half way through my pregnancy with T, an acquaintance who was a mother of 2, decided to inform me that once I had T, I would never visit the bathroom alone again...I chuckled to myself at hearing this statement.
Really? I asked. I haven't gone the bathroom alone, either for bathing or using the bathroom in years. Ah, hello, I have cats!?
Asking a cat for some privacy is like trying to cure the common cold or solving world peace, it's nearly impossible. Honestly, I think that solving those problems might be easier!
When we lived back in Ottawa, Phenix's favourite napping spot was behind the toilet bowl in the bathroom.
You would no sooner get 'seated' and out she'd pop from behind the tank. She would hop up on the counter and look at you expectantly. That was the unofficial cue for you to turn on the tap so her highness could have some fresh water to drink. Her water bowl was highly overrated and apparently that view hasn't changed.
If Phenix wasn't behind the toilet tank, than both her and Gryffin would observe you ever so covertly from a far. They would wait until you headed for the bathroom so they could have the freshest water available. They would then streak across the apartment to get into the bathroon before you could close the door. Both cats nearly lost their tails because they would narrowly miss the door being closed too quickly.
Many of our guests would be greeted by our furry WC ambassadors whenever Nature called. The door would close and then you would hear them say "Oh hello there." The door would open again and the cat(s) would be gently shown the exit. It freaked out more than a few people.
Now, that we have a small child, its even more so a rare occasion that I visit the bathroom alone. If T comes along, Gryffin observes from the doorway. But not Phenix. She's perched safely on the counter, flipping her tail and observing all like a feline Mother Superior.
I might actually get to visit the restroom sans la petite, if there is something on the TV however, it is a rare occasion that I actually get there alone because the cats usually stroll in.
Why not just close the door? That would be an obvious option, right? Not chez nous, at least for me. This strategy works for S as he is male and therefore is immune to the screaming/wailing/crying.
You see, the minute the door is shut, it sends reverberations through the entire first floor. That 'sonic wave' breaks the precarious concentration T has focused on the TV and she comes a running. The screaming, wailing and crying then commences when T is greeted with the closed door. Whatever peace I thought I might get, is gone.
Take this morning, for example. I got up at 6am, enjoyed my morning coffee and slowly woke up from my morning daze. I decided to take my shower early just in case T woke up early (which she did - screaming like a banshee, I might add). I walked into my bathroom, all set for some quiet time.
I no sooner closed the door and I heard the sound that let me know that my alone time had ended before it had began.
The sound? It was the bittersweet jingle of cat tags. Gryffin had been sleeping on the bathmat and was all too happy to see Mommy. I only wish the feeling had been mutual.
When Nature calls in my house, its truly a pee parade.
No comments:
Post a Comment