The Unbearable Awkwardness of Shared Bathroom Time

Maybe the most perplexing change in my world since becoming a parent has been the natural loss of solitary bathroom time. It has been replaced by the ever awkward occurrence most parents will recognize as shared bathroom time. Ask me me if I could, would, or wanted to sit on the toilet to do my business and be busted in on mid-business to put it lightly. I'm not sure if as a species we were made to poop in groups, you know, in the company of other creatures of our same species. Oh, I can poo with a cat around, and a dog doesn't change the urgency of any of my bathroom habits, but a child busting in because they have to poo too...well, that's a little different. Strangely, I can handle that. It's the Oh...Hi Mom. I'm just sitting here pooping...you know, with my pants around my ankles feeling very much like a fool part that takes some getting used to. It's not a habit that June has of interrupting my waste disposal time. It's typically a moment that occurs when she's escorting a little girl, who we are presently toilet training, to the facilities that I am occupying. It's at that moment that I get to look my best in front of my wife.

I'm convinced that the ubiquitous intimacy of marriage also contributes to the dulling of our collective senses. What a magical world we might live in were we not to get regular glimpses of one another's every-day-nuthin'-fancy-about-this gitch, or be present while we go pee. It's like how people who live in Florida think nothing of humidity while people from San Francisco melt in it. Well, it's sorta like that.