JEANNE: The throne room: the last bastion of solitude

The home we purchased was built before the invention of interior doors with locks. Because of this, the only difference between our bathroom and our living room is a showerhead.

I have found myself many times visiting the bathroom while nursing an infant or hurt feelings. Or both. I have sat on the porcelain throne and instead of the peace and quiet that should come at a time such as this, find myself the “base” for a game of tag. I have cleaned bloody noses from this position and fixed toys. I may have even changed a diaper or two.

Interestingly, (or sadly) enough, I’ve gotten used to this. My husband not so much. I have passed the bathroom, door wide open, with 2-4 children playing hopscotch at his feet, and his demanding, “THIS IS NOT GRAND CENTRAL STATION!” I laugh when I see he actually has reading material in hand.

The day finally came when enough was enough. It was time to remove the useless barrier and replace it with the modern door, lock included.

The whole time Matt worked on installing our bathroom door, I couldn’t help but notice the dreamy smile he had on his face, fantasizing about quiet, peaceful, uninterrupted visits to the john. I myself was excited. We were actually going to be homeowners of a bathroom that LOCKED!

Fantasy became reality when, 10 hours later, Matt joyously trumpeted, “I am now going to take a shower and no one will be able to come in!” It was a crowning moment in our home. Matt stood behind the door, towel in hand, looked down at our four children crowded around the new doorknob and shut the door.

Then locked it.

His trumpeting continued, “It’s locked! It’s locked! It’s locked!” I actually felt a sense of glee, knowing that I, too, would be able to enjoy the euphoria that comes with peace in a bathroom.

The kids started knocking on the door.

“Let us in!”

Matt responded tauntingly, “It’s locked!”

This happened several times. I smiled. Then silence. I figured the children gave up. Then I heard it: “HEY!! GET OUT OF HERE!!” followed by several different tonal giggles.

Colby, my 7 year old and oldest, came running to me, “Mom! We have a key to unlock the door!” and proudly held up a small, dull penny.

I couldn’t believe it. Within 30 seconds of Matt hanging his bathroom door, the kids figured out that by merely placing the edge of a coin into the groove on the knob was all they needed to unlock the door.

Grand Central Station. Back in business.