Virginia Woolf in "A Room of One's Own" wrote passionately about the need for women to have a place of their own to write and to be creative.
Eighty years later, women across the country still have the same lament! Mother's whether they live in mansions or apartments eventually all will get driven to the smallest room in the house, the bathroom.
From the privacy of their bathrooms, women run multi million dollar businesses, have heartfelt conversations with their best friends and conduct interviews. Hampers can serve as a desk for your laptop and the inside a file cabinet. In times of exhaustion, the top of the hamper can be used as a headrest while sitting on the commode. You may have to work long hours; so make sure you have several large Egyptian towels on hand. These will come in handy as warm blankets or folded will serve as a comfortable pillow. Don't forget to use the office sound machine, running water in hopes of creating a sound barrier.
Society teaches us that the bathroom is a private place. When occupied, to be respectful and to leave the person alone. That's why there are signs with the word, "Occupied". Why do children and pets continually forget this common courtesy? I admit I prefer to see my Airedale's hairy paw turning the handle, to let himself into the bathroom than the humans invaders.
Another beef, who appointed mothers the chief toilet paper dispensers? I am sure this is true everywhere in the world. Whether they use Northern Toilet Paper in the United States or large green leaves in the Congo. Nothing is worse then turning around to grab a piece of toilet paper and seeing a half mangled piece left on the roll. First, I curse and then go to work carefully scrapping off the last remnants of the sheet. I guess we can be thankful for small blessings.
The bathroom can be the battleground, for a whole host of other battles. If you have a daughter, you immediately will understand. How often have I found my expensive shampoo or conditioner squander by my daughter ? The shampoo I agonized over buying because it was so expensive. I rationalized it by thinking it would make my hair look thicker and more youthful. Only to find out it was wasted on a full head of youthful hair! Could you imagine, one of my closest friends has THREE daughters!
The promise to rejuvenate my skin to the youthful glow of twenty-six. Over and over, I get drawn into the wish of youth and buy the stupid cream that promises everything and delivers little. I know I am wasting my money but my spirits are falsely lifted. Imagining I will be transformed back to my daughter's age.
If I am so inclined, I will write about the parental bedroom and the universal drive for closeness. I look forward to your comments.
