Some blog posts are timeless. If you have been blogging for more than a day or two, I’m sure you could find a few treasures in your archives.
With this in mind, I have included one below, originally posted here in December 2007. Hand picked just for you, as I experienced something along these same lines, yet again, this afternoon.
I’d love to tell you that it was my youngest who interrupted my time alone, though he did drop by later to knock and run. No…this was my oldest, my seventeen year old. Her emergency bathroom question hollered through the door jam…
“Mom, can I borrow your eyelash curler?”
I am so grateful that I have had 911/emergency training so I can remain calm while I answer such a life or death question.
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In my opinion, the U.S. Postal Service has overlooked what could possibly be a very profitable mode of mail delivery, bathroom-mail.
I am surprised that our government would clearly miss such a golden opportunity with overwhelming cash cow potential.
After many inquiries, I have discovered that moms all across America frequently use this form of communication with their family.
Just like the Loch Ness monster and Big Foot, I had heard rumors about a bathroom mail carrier when I had my first child. I had even been warned by many expert mothers – not only would my alone time in the bathroom become a distant memory,I would also experience bathroom-mail from time to time.
So why was I surprised when my first delivery arrived, slipped under the door by a dimpled, blond haired, four year old little girl in 1995?
Since then my mail carriers have been both male and female, some cute and some not so cute (those would be my teenage mail carriers). I have had letters, homework, permission slips, report cards, birthday invitations and even notes of affection delivered under my bathroom door.
I have begged, pleaded, cried and even screamed at them, “RETURN TO SENDER!”
From one expert mom to any newbie moms out there, listen up. Your alone time in the bathroom is now a thing of the past – a distant memory, like having an uninterrupted conversation, or thighs without cellulite. As long as you have children living in your home it’s guaranteed you will receive bathroom-mail.
Count on it.
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow, nor the shrill screams of an exasperated mother can keep away a bathroom-mail carrier. Not now. Not ever.
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