Okay, here's a post for all of the relatively new mothers out there. Do you ever feel as though you can't go to the bathroom by yourself? No, I'm not talking about when you go to a public place and take a friend just so you can have someone to entertain you while you wait in an insanely long line. I'm talking about within the privacy of your own home.
It occurred to me earlier today that we have brought this phenomenon upon ourselves.
First, we put great emphasis on potty-training--and for obvious reasons. We join our progeny in the bathroom and wait for things to happen, then cheer when things come to pass, or look sternly upon mishaps. When the kiddies are young, they have to join us in the stalls of public restrooms because we are afraid someone will snatch them. Is it any wonder they think they should always join us? Even if we indicate we might like some alone time.
Like so many other things, though, we will have our sweet revenge when they become teenagers. By that time, we'll be used to the company, and we will follow them around often speaking through doors closed in our faces. Not only that, but we will have finally overcome embarrassment, conquered it after being sprayed by ever bodily fluid known to man, after having a child scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs in a crowded store, after escorting a toddler back into a store with an item he has pilfered. Yes, just as our teenage children reach the point that everything embarrasses them, we will have reached a point where almost nothing embarrasses us.
And that, I believe, is poetic jusice. Or at least the great circle of communal pottying.