Won't you be my neighbor?

(Warning: This post contains rather graphic mental images. If you are easily offended, please click away. If you want a good laugh, please read on.)

Tonight the kids were playing happily, so I took that opportunity to go use the facilities, as civilized people say. Seconds after sitting down, Eva came in. "Mama, you going potty?" I told her that I was. Leighton heard the conversation and came toddling in to join us. Within seconds, a fight escalated between them, and they both were crying at my knees. I growled in annoyance and said loudly while looking to the heavens for an answer, "Can't I even poo in peace?" Then I looked over and saw that my window was open. I guess even my neighbors can't have peace while I poo, since I'm broadcasting it to the whole neighborhood. That was slightly mortifying.

But the story doesn't end there. No, the fun continues. Just as I was finishing up my business, the phone rang. Thinking it would be Andrew, I dashed from the bathroom to grab the phone, hopping over my kids' heads, with all my clothes down around my knees. (It was a slow, cumbersome dash.) So you can imagine my anger when I saw that it wasn't Andrew, but a solicitor who has been calling at the worst times for the past week or two. I answered the phone with every intention of yelling at the telemarketer. But alas, I was denied even that pleasure as it was an automatic recording. I growled again and slammed the phone back down.

I hobbled back to the bathroom to see my kids staring at me in confusion. Eva said, "Mama, are you naked?" I pulled my pants back up and said, "Yes, Eva. I'm naked."

Bet you're glad you're not my neighbor.