There Comes a Time…

I have learned thusly this weekend.  There comes a time when little boys become curious.  And when this time comes, there are some things you need to do.  Let’s work through them here in some scenario-type examples.
Say, for example, you kindly ask your spouse (or significant other) to entertain the kiddos while you luxuriate in a simple 30-second shower whereby you attempt to soap, shampoo, and avoid slicing through your femoral artery while shaving—all before someone manages to find you in your glass fishbowl and begin to observe your activity.  This in itself is a finely choreographed piece of theater, but let’s take it one step further.
For the sake of entertainment, let’s just pretend that your spouse (or significant other) is so in tune with his assault on whatever village he might be pillaging in his latest video game that he forgets that he might have needed to remember the whereabouts of the children.  This should be no problem—except for the fact that Mommy is performing a quick rendition of scald-me-clean under the showerhead.
No problem.  BUT, let’s just say that IF a certain 5-year-old were to wander into the bathroom after a certain mommy were OUT of the shower, and a certain mommy was unaware of this little boy’s presence, the little boy might ask certain questions.  For example, when Mommy is ever-so-sneakily using Daddy’s razor to “trim the fairway,” said little boy might scare the ever-loving crap out of Mommy by asking, “Why do you need to do that, Mommy?”
“HOLY EFFING FOR THE LOVE OF MIKE, WHY IS THERE A KID IN HERE?!” might be what you might hear the mommy say.  You know, if that were to happen in real life.
But it totally didn’t.  Because that would be bad.  And you would totally have to have a legitimate reason for having Daddy’s whisker-shaver and um, you know.  So, yeah.
So, my point here is, there comes a time when boys should be banned from the private spaces where girls frequent.  And this is a general rule in our house, but you see, our house has one of those big, open bathrooms in the master bedroom, so the little people tend to wander.  So, if your house is set up like this, I’m just letting you know that there may also come a time when you need to bar the door with concrete reinforced bars and padlocks so that you do not have to explain embarrassing things to little people.
Also, I’m pretty sure it will help with future psychological expenses, both for parents and children.  Also, have I mentioned that I might need a drink?
So, yeah.  That.  Lock the doors, people.  Lock the flipping doors.  And hey, Honey, sorry about the razor.

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