My Secret Inner Office

I grew up in a house with ten brothers and sisters. Is it any wonder that I love the fact that I have my own bathroom now? Until I was twelve we only had one bathroom in the whole house. Now as an adult I get to go into a bathroom that rarely has the imprint of anyone else's butt on the seat, or strange hair in the sink. Mark has his bathroom, and I have mine. I truly treasure the privacy of my little tile lined sanctuary. When I was a kid you could be sure that somebody would be pounding on the door before you were done. Now I can stay as long as I want. Well, almost as long as I like, for no matter what the time of day, as soon as my ass hits that toilet seat it is guaranteed that either the dogs will start barking, or the phone will ring. I have learned to ignore those interruptions though. If it's the phone, the answering machine will pick it up. As for the dogs barking wildly because somebody is knocking at the door, I've found over the years that the UPS truck is already halfway down the street before I've pulled my pants up. Let them bark.