Riding the lift

Every day, I ride the lift while on the loo.  Pretty nifty, don’t you think?  I don’t have to bother ducking into the public toilets adjacent to the lift entry.  No, I just pee while making my way to the top.  I like to view it as hardcore multi-tasking.  After all, with two young kids who are completely reliant on me, I have to multi-task wherever I can.

And – bonus – I have time to pee, wash hands, even check my hair…because I ride right up to level 24, to be precise.

You see, my eldest boy, Mr.3, has an inbuilt sensor alarm that tells him exactly when mummy has gone to the loo.  (I gave up telling him I was going to the loo ages ago, in the hope I would be left alone for two minutes.  I now understand about his inbuilt sensor alarm.)  Without fail, within thirty seconds of me making a quick disappearance, voila!  There he is!  Clever little man.

If you can picture, our ensuite is ‘hidden’ behind built-in wardrobes.  In order to access the ensuite, you have to slide a wardrobe door open, which is actually a ‘false’ door into the ensuite.

In Mr.3’s wildly creative mind, this sliding door is in fact the door on Daddy’s lift at work.  And so this is how my daily bathroom routine goes.  Warning:  stop reading now, if you don’t like TMI.  (Although, if that’s the case, you should have stopped reading once you’d read the title of this post.)

Sit down.  Begin to pee.  (We all pee, so really that’s not TMI).  Start allowing myself to think, wow..perhaps I may be left alone this time!  Maybe, yes…yes I think so….  Ok ok, what should I cook for dinner??  What do I have to buy at Coles again???  Oh.  Hear faint sound of small feet coming closer, then the inevitable: the sliding “lift” door is slowly pushed aside..

“LET’S RIDE THE LIFT!!”  Bursting with excitement, like we’ve never done this before.  “Ok, sure, where are we going today?” (Let me guess, gee…ummm…level 24??) 

“We are going to level 24.”  Mr.3 takes on deep, serious voice of Lift Operator. “The lift door is closing now, here we go….zzzzzzzzmmmmmmmmm..”  (Noise made is cross between lift, and rocket launch.)  “DING! OK, WE’RE HERE! Let’s get out, the door’s opening!”

“C’MON, Mum, the DOOR IS OPENING!”

And at that point, I’ve done what I needed to do, just finished my hair check, and I’m ready to exit the lift. 

Never did I think before having children, that sitting on the toilet alone would somehow qualify as a “break”.

No-one tells you these things, do they?

Before kids, or when at work, you can just choose to go whenever.  Oh, the luxury!  I remember when I returned to work after my first born.  I think I visited the loos about six times that day.  Maybe ten.  Not to actually use the toilet for its actual purpose – but to sit there, alone, IN SILENCE, without having to converse with a toddler.  Without having toddler watch me pee. (We’re over that stage now, thank God. Until Mr.1 starts showing an interest.)

Oh yes, yes the small things you come to appreciate in life. 

But if I really had to choose? 

I’d ride the lift over peeing alone anyday.

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