It took me a while to adjust to living in the house for a couple different reasons, one namely being new housemates. I have never lived with young kids without being a little critter myself. It’s definitely a shock when the cries, laughter, yells, and general noise of children fill the house from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. You can’t escape the sound. You also can’t escape the little intrusions. I think I mentioned before that I have had a couple of issues with Taz about defining personal boundaries. Well, it appears that Rapunzel and I will be having a similar discussion in the morning. Allow me to explain.
The parents are out for a dinner party and I am babysitting. I was scheduled to start working at 6:45 and managed to roll in the door at 6:30. I had time to quickly check my email and empty my day bag before heading downstairs to help the kiddos get into jammies before a night of watching TV. As soon as I put them to bed I did a running leap for the shower. I laid by the lake this afternoon and followed my vitamin-D session with a trip to the gym. It’s safe to say I needed a hose-down.
Now, here I am, in the shower, doing my shower thing, when I hear the unmistakable sound of a child outside the door. Next thing I know the door is being opened and Rapunzel is standing there with a mask of concern on her face. I should point out now that the shower is just one big glass vestibule, and not even the frosted kind. “Umm, yes. Can I help you?” She says that she needs water before she can sleep. I remind her that she can get this for herself and to go downstairs and do it. Tears are about to spring from her eyes when she says she would but she can’t open the lid to her sippy-cup.
So, I open the door, remove said lid and send her on her way. She leaves the bathroom and fails to shut the door behind her. I should now point out that the bathroom opens up to the office which has a convenient row of windows facing right into the bathroom. The houses here are ridiculously close together and we all have intrusive views into one another’s lives. At this point I am looking into the dining room of the kind folks behind us. I am operating under the “I can see you so you can see me” mentality and assume the neighbors are getting a little more than they bargained for when they bought the place. “Hey, Rapunzel, could you maybe grab that door? Yeah, OK. Cool.” She shuts the door and I am left scratching my soapy head in wonder at the lackadaisical attitude of children.
It couldn’t be more than 4 minutes later and I see the sliver of light begin to expand at the doorway. Apparently, she has such weak muscles that she is unable to screw the lid of the cup back on. Once more I open the shower door and assist her. She says thank you and begins to close the door. Just as I feel I will be left in peace she whips it open again and asks me if I’m coming with them to Laax tomorrow. I assure her that I will be there, bid her goodnight and ask her to shut the door on her way out. She then inquires if I will be going to Portalban (the other holiday home) with them in two weeks. Seriously? Is this the time to have this conversation? “Yes. As a matter of fact, I will.” “OK, good!” It isn’t without a couple of tschüsses that she’s finally out of the bathroom and on her way to slumberdom. Obviously she’s not fazed, but I think we might have a little girl talk about occasions when it’s not OK to bust in on someone.