Thursday 8th September 2016
When the urge to go takes hold, I usually hold on to it for far too long. And then when I am urgently, desperately holding on (usually while feeding the little man, and putting wet clean clothes on the line, and hosing down the bathroom, all at once) I simply drop what I am doing, and sit on the loo. But no matter how engaged Kingsley is with whatever toy or game he is playing at the time, he seems always to find his way to me, on the loo, and want to ‘hang out’.
Well I don’t want to hang out with my son in a toilet. I am there for a purpose. And although it’s certainly pleasant when that tightly held-on wee (or whatever) is released (bliss!), it’s the opposite of pleasant doing so with a little person tipping over all my trinkets then asking what each one is.
Those minutes of privacy I yearn for these days – conducting my ablutions – are long gone. They left me when Kingsley was born; this I was kind of ready for – you know, the newborn stage of carting the kid wherever in the house you go. But nobody prepared me for this toddler stage. The sweet, innocent, curious, irritating toddler stage…
My boy, please give Mummá a (toilet) break!!