Rub a Dub Dub...three hineys in the tub...

My secret is out. My space has been invaded. The last little spot in this palace (read:townhousethatistoosmall) that I could slip away to has been invaded. This queen does not even get to sit on her throne alone. Nay, nay. I always have company. It usually goes something like this:

Me...slipping into the bathroom quietly...some alone time. Is it too much to ask to be able to pee in peace?

Apparently, because then...WHAM! The door bangs open. "Hi Mommy. Are you going pee-pee or making choco-nuggets?"

"OK, mommy is going pee-pee. Can you close the door please?"

"Sure." And then they do, but they stay inside, on the WRONG side of the door. I have locked it, and believe me, that is no better. Then I get banging and wailing on the door..."Mommmeeeeee! Mooooooooooom! What are you doing? Are you in there? Mooommmmeeeeeee...." Then the fingers appear under the door. It is less than a peaceful moment, so I don't even bother anymore.

But my secret little spot has now been taken over. The shower. The little ones did not like the splashing of the water in their faces, so they would steer clear of the shower. Blessed peace, and oh yeah, I actually got to shave my legs. Sometimes I would just hang out in there for a mommy time-out. Those were the days. Now, they have decided that the shower is "...so much FUN! It is like WARM RAIN! Yay!!" Now I share my small shower stall with two wiggly wet crazies. The minute they hear the water come on, it is a race for the bathroom, trying to pull off their shirts and shorts, getting tangled up in their clothes, usually with one arm sticking straight up out of the neck of their t-shirts..."Help! I'm stuck!"

The upside? Those little wet tushies are so darn cute.