Saturday, August 6, 2011

A Little Privacy Please

I truly thought that once Eric and I moved from our small two bedroom townhouse in California into our much larger home here in Colorado that we would not suffer from a lack of privacy.  That I could comfortably find a place in my home where I could be alone without background noise, children clamoring for my attention, or the privacy of my bathroom "moments" undisturbed.  Wrong.

It has actually gotten worse.  My pets, husband, and children actively seek me out more.  If my presence is not immediately felt, it seems to be a requirement on their end to know where I am at all times and discuss obscure issues like, "Do you know that the movie, Iron Man 3 will be coming out in 2013?" or "Bri, did you know the flowers we planted last spring are finally in bloom?".  This is all fine and good but is it necessary to holler for someone in a 3-story house who obviously can not be found for a reason?  I don't want to be found.  I'm probably resting or enjoying a good book or quite honestly, just want to be left alone.

My dogs don't get this either.  I don't mind their presence during my quiet "hiding" moments but seriously, while I'm on the toilet?  If I have to use the downstairs bathroom, I would prefer the door closed.  Normally this is because the boys are roaming about or I have company.  I don't appreciate my dogs scratching and howling at the door especially at those inopportune moments.  If it's a long situation (no explanation necessary), then they whine and bark and bring much more attention then I appreciate.  Lovely.  Of course, just to quiet them down, I'll let them come in while I'm washing my hands.  Dogs do not comprehend the word, discretion.  They jump in, take one long sniff at the toilet bowl, and run for cover with their tails between their legs.  You'd think that would teach them.  No, they come back for more the next time I have a room full of guests sitting just outside in my family room area.

For once I would like to find a place that I can call my own.  A space that no one knows about.  The last time I thought I found it, my husband was ready to commit me.  It was the crawl space in my master closet underneath my husband's dress shirts.  I almost succeeded until my dog, Tulip gave me away.  You see, she's a licker and Eric heard her tongue busy at something until he realized it was the chocolate syrup I spilled on my shirt from earlier in the day.  Drat!  Foiled by the overzealous chocolate loving tongue of my Shih Tzu

Perhaps, next time we look for a house I can discuss my needs privately with a female realtor.  I'm sure she'll understand.








  

  

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