I closed the door behind me and stood in the small empty room for a moment just absorbing the silence that comes from being alone. A moment to myself these days is rare to come by, at least before bedtime. Showering usually buys me 15 minutes or so, but now that I want to look “normal” for my kids when I transport them to and from school, I’ve been showering before they even get up, instead of in the evenings. Intentionally waking up early before the kids does not, or at least should not, constitute as alone time.
As I slowly sat down, I briefly closed by eyes, enjoying the solitude. Many who sit, just like I did then, use it to contemplate life’s great mysteries or to develop great ideas; I used this seat, in this brief moment, to think of nothing. As I sit and absorb the silence, my mind slowly goes blank. Nothing flows through my mind as I just sit….and pee.
A loud noise and sudden movement of the door handle made me jump, although I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear the sound of Jake calling my name and the door swing wildly open. “Delivery truck is here, Mom!”
As I began to yell at Jake to close the door, my pleas began to become a bit more frantic as I realized the front door was open and the delivery man, who I have known for three years now, has on occasion called through the screen and placed a box just inside my front door. This may seem like nothing to be alarmed about, but my front door and powder room are literally right next to each other. See below:
Jake who, as usual, is oblivious to my commands, continues to tell me over and over that the delivery man is here. The door, which is swung all the way open, makes me afraid to reach out and close it because it would clearly put me in Jim the delivery man’s field of vision. My decision, instantly becomes the apparent right choice, and I hear him just outside the front door. I immediately decide to hold my ground on the toilet and not make another sound until he leaves which must be only moments away.
My mind must still be in its diluted state of solitude, perhaps with some remaining blank spots, because I never considered what Jake did next. The driver sees Jake and says “I have a delivery for your Mom, Buddy.” Jake says, “I told her you were here but she’s busy pooping,” and points his little index finger into the open bathroom.
My first instinct is to reach out and smack Jake, but something in my reawakening mind stops me and I just try to access Jim’s position. As I lean off the toilet, I peer out into the foyer and see Jim’s ear to ear grin reflecting in the mirror in the hallway. Although he was looking right at Jake, it occurs to me that if I can see him, he can possibly see me so I crouch back onto the porcelain seat safely hidden from view.
Just so we’re all following along, here’s the view from the front door. Please note the mirror, and that you can see into the bathroom:
I then begin to wonder if death by embarrassment is a real thing, and if so who would find me dead on the toilet a-la-Elvis. Jake begins telling me to unlock the screen door so he can get the box. I simply remain seated, silent and completely motionless, with my head down in utter defeat.
I can tell by the tone and volume of Jim’s voice that what he said next was not intended for Jake. “Well, I’m just going to leave this box here and your Mommy can come get it when she’s finished doing whatever she’s doing. You tell her to have a nice weekend.” I distinctly hear Jim chuckling as he walks back to his truck.
Part of me wanted to cry out, “I was only peeing!” but at this point I continue to remain silent. I was going to be humiliated regardless of whether or not Jim thought I was shitting. Once I hear Jim’s truck pulling away I get up, slam the door and contemplate moving to a new town for the third time in 8 days.
At least it was Friday. Although my week started with getting humped by a sex-crazed canine and ended with Jake telling the delivery man I was pooping with my bathroom door opened, 2 feet from where he was standing, it was still Friday. Thank God.
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