Weekend Report, Newlywed Edition: On Closing the Bathroom Door
You know you’ve just about lost your mind when your plans for the day include the spray painting and subsequent bedazzling of a small ceramic dog figurine… and that these plans offer a welcome and almost delightful respite from watching The Roosevelts, which is how you’ve made it this far (two and a half weeks of doing nothing while recovering from back surgery).
There was– oh yeah– the DNC at one point, and I owe all of you the follow up and rather dramatic ending to the tale that began with DNC Day 4: The Hat I Wore to My Grandfather’s Funeral (spoiler alert: Bernie Sanders does not win the Democratic nomination…) but now that the circus has left town, I’m back to twiddling my thumbs, reading an anthropological account of home births (because why not?) and bedazzling ceramic figurines.
I’m also getting the hang of married life, and even though the one year anniversary of PIC’s popping of the question passed this past weekend, we’re still just newlyweds, which means things like this happen:
Me: [Shouting from the toilet] Why do you come up the stairs when I’m peeing with the door open? Don’t do that!
Him: Wait. How is this my fault?
Me: I don’t know, but can’t you wear a cow bell or something? Then I’ll hear you coming and I’ll know to close the door.
In my defense, I spend a good deal of time alone in our house, so I don’t bother to close the bathroom door except for on special occasions, like when there are people over or when my husband is actually home. It just takes too long, and usually we have a towel hung over the door so it doesn’t latch properly and because the floor is a bit slanted, it swings open and crashes into the linen closet when it doesn’t latch properly and all of this swinging and slamming about just isn’t good for my delicate nerves… so I don’t bother.
But, in PIC’s defense, closing the bathroom door is, you know, what normal people do, as I so passionately argued a mere two years ago in a post called These Things Called Doors inspired by the time I accidentally stumbled upon my maternal grandfather taking a dump.
Today’s take away? I’ve turned into my grandfather. Kill me now.
Kat Echevarría Richter 
10 Responses to “Weekend Report, Newlywed Edition: On Closing the Bathroom Door”
Ha! Perfect.
Heh, you made me laugh. I think if can-you-not-come-up-when-I-pee-with-the-door-open-arguments are the worst arguments you and your husband have, you’re doing pretty good.
Fair enough 🙂 We have had some slightly worse arguments (many of which can be blamed on Bernie Sanders) but all in all, yes, I’d say we’re doing alright.
What? No photo of the dog figurine?
Alas, it’s a surprise gift for a friend who sometimes reads this blog so I don’t want to give it away just yet…
Snort!
I don’t know how this happened, I even read your post again, but now I can’t get the image of an elderly man in stilettos, on the toilet, out of my head.
You’re welcome 😉
We don’t close the bathroom door when it’s #1 like ever. He doesn’t care when he goes up a number. I do… but I sometimes am caught unawares. So he’ll come up the stairs and I’ll look at him sadly and ask if he can close the door for me. Ah, marriage. 🙂
haha this was funny and refreshing. I’m a newlywed and I share our stories via blog too! My husband hates when I don’t replace the tissue when its run out!