These days I’m spending an exorbitant amount of time hanging around outside girls’ restrooms, which is giving me the opportunity to reflect on things. You know, when my iphone runs out of battery.
Tonight, after escorting Miss9 to the toilet block, I’d managed to make it through the bus door and up our three steps when I was met by a roadblock of sorts.
“You kidding me?” I asked her.
“Sorry, Dad,” she said. “I have to go too now.”
We have a couple of rules about loos on this big lap of ours – don’t use the one in the bus unless you have a doctor’s certificate, and the kids don’t go to the park or show ground loos without being accompanied by either Tracey or myself.
Because big buses like ours tend to get shoved down the back so it’s generally a long walk.
So obviously, whoever gets suckered into walking the kids over, we always make enquiries of whichever four of our five kids aren’t hoping from one foot to the other in front of us before we toddle off to see if anyone else feels the urge to relieve themselves.
As you’ve probably guessed, they rarely do.
Having now had many, many hours standing vigil outside cubicle doors, I believe I’ve worked out why. This is, I’m certain, a direct consequence of them coming from a large household where there’s only one toilet, so now suddenly we’ve a dozen loos available but my kids are for all intents and purposes lined up behind the same one.
I walked Miss13 across the ankle high grass and took up my usual spot – standing in the dark watching Youtube videos.
I was halfway through a fourth episode of David Mitchell’s Soapbox when it occurred to me I’d heard a flushing during the third.
“You okay in there?” I called out.
The door opened.
“Sorry,” said Miss13. “I got distracted.”
My first thought was she’d taken her phone in, but it wasn’t in her hands so…
“Hey, what were you distracted by in there?” I asked her again. I knew it wasn’t posters on the walls because I’d been in there so often with Miss5 and Miss7 I can tell you with confidence there aren’t any. “It was a couple of minutes. A bug? What? You know I’m not going to give up so you might as well come clean.”
She sighed in that fun way thirteen year old girls instinctively know how to do to show they are doing something under sufferance. Turns out she was using her time in the bathroom to reflect as well.
Raising a family on little more than laughs
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