The Bathroom

Here’s the confession: I’m weird about bathrooms.  Really I am.

We already know there’s no eating or drinking in there for me.  There’s no drinking water from the bathroom tap either – even if I’m outside of the bathroom.  But there’s more.

When I was little, I was afraid of the flush.  I was afraid of the flush because I was sure that monsters or Bloody Mary herself was set loose by that roaring sound so I always used to make sure that it was the last thing I did before tearing out of the bathroom (don’t worry, I’d wash my hands first—unless it was a public bathroom…but I’d still tear out of the stall to the sinks). 

If I had to pee before showering, I’d also wait until after my shower to flush the toilet.  Half of that was carry-over from being afraid of the flush while the other half was fear the pipes messing up.  What if the pipes got confused and my flush came out through the showerhead instead?!

Pool bathrooms grossed me out.  It was all the wet that was around if you had to go.  The floors were wet, the seats were wet, and then if you’d already been in for a dip, your bathing suit was wet when you took it off and put it back on.   Why was that gross?  How do you know it wasn’t PEE?!

While I’ve outgrown the weird flushing habits (kind of has to happen when you start to share your bathroom with someone else 24/7), the eating, drinking, and over-wetness weirdness has persisted.  Why does all of this matter, you wonder? 

THIS is why this matters.

I encountered this type of bathroom before in Japan but somehow never had to use them while there.  Now it’s my personal en suite here at Malcolm’s family home.  Now EVERYTHING is wet ALL THE TIME.

I seem to have made the adjustment just fine though.  I think the saving grace is that when everything is wet, I know that either Malcolm or I took a shower, and I know that I don’t pee on the floor…and I’m pretty sure that Malcolm doesn’t either.  And if I ever have any doubts, I just try not to think about it. 

Regardless…I always make sure I wipe my feet doubly well on the mat outside the door after I come out of there.

…

Totally unrelated:  I’m watching a kid’s songs CD with the resident 2-year old of the house.  It’s in English with karaoke style lyrics at the bottom for her to follow along.  It’s horrendous.  Absolutely horrendous.  The poor kid who’s doing the vocals is SO Chinese it hurts – he can’t do the Rs in the songs and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what he’s actually singing because while he’s not TOO out of tune, his timing is way off and he misses words.  Poor kid is NOT going to sing these songs right come kindergarten time.