A couple of months ago I wrote about my worst shower ever. The moral of my story was: make sure you lock your bathroom door – unless you are prepared to let unwanted things happen. Such as your slippers being peed on, for instance. Or something even less pleasant… but let’s not even go there, shall we?

Well, yesterday I sort of proved myself wrong. I had my second worst shower, and the moral of the story was totally the opposite: never lock your bathroom door!

I hear someone let a big sigh out: “Women, hey, can’t make up their mind!” Exactly.

So, what happened this time around? Well, I was having some “me” time in the shower, this time as an adult with a certain level of privacy – which in my case only applies to using the bathroom. Although I rarely learn from my mistakes, I did actually learn from this one, so locked the door. Well, if someone does have an emergency, all they have to do is go downstairs. If they don’t quite make it… Oh well, it won’t be the first time I’ve had to clean up a mess; it won’t be the last time either.

So, as you do, I was having a recap of the day – definitely a busy one. Boxing Day sales tempted us to venture into town and I, finally, managed to accomplish the mission of this month. Finding new pyjamas for my nine year old son proved to be as complicated as a space shuttle mission. Nearly. After going round all shops and going back for a refund everywhere, I had given up. Luckily, a random shop happened to stock his size. 13-14 years, that is. If you are reading this carefully, your eyebrow must have gone up. Yes, nine year old wearing clothes for kids 4-5 years older. Story of my life… But, then, remember the title of my blog, right? He’s not going to be a short guy.

So, with this feeling of satisfaction, next thing I contemplated on were my other purchases – not as justified as my son’s sleepwear, I must admit. I decided to treat myself to some silver jewellery – not a bare essential, is it. Hm, should I have actually done that… I even decided to go online, and did a bit more damage than intended.

So here I was, buried away in deep thought, trying to justify spending money on myself (well, my purchases will make a nice fashion post for my blog, after all!)… when I heard a series of loud bangs on the (remember, locked!) door.

He’ll never learn to keep quiet when his sister is in bed, is he! I roll my eyes and suppress the desire to shout. The bathroom is adjacent to the room where my two-year old daughter was sleeping. I was also suppressing the urge to use a certain four-letter word – definitely not suitable for my son’s age!

To my surprise, it wasn’t my son. It was my husband. “You’ve GOT to open the door!”, he scowled back, on the verge of actually shouting.

Shit. Something was seriously wrong. What happened to her? Even if she screams her head off, I won’t hear her in the shower. But, then, this is why we have the baby monitor downstairs where my husband was.

I, clearly distressed, I slipped out of the shower to unlock the door. To my greatest relief, it wasn’t the kids. But it wasn’t good news either. There was a leak from the bathroom, so the kitchen was getting flooded. Oh dear.

There were my hopes for privacy going out of the window. But… would you prefer privacy over peace of mind? Maybe.

I wouldn’t. From now on, I’d rather keep the blinking door open. And hope there are no more disasters coming my way.

P.S. Picture – courtesy of Google.