|The Toilet of Venus|
Even she had to wrestle her little cherubs out.
Spending a penny. Having a tinkle. Off to the powder room. Whatever way you dress it, toilet action should be a solo mission (unless of course you are post nappies but pre-school and the freedom to yell "I've done a poo!" whilst waiting, bum up, hands down, for the lucky parent to tidy one up, is of benefit to all parties involved).
It is a hazy memory now since I've partaken in a lavatory trip sans children. "A door - closed? A lock? Why? Must investigate. Will interrogate. By the way, now I have you at eye-level and looking somewhat vulnerable with your trousers around your ankles, I am going to embark on a discussion of all things weird that inhabit my brain. And when you repeatedly ask me to go away, I will only do so slowly, whilst attempting to slide backwards along the floor, continuing my monologue which has side-stepped into my imagining life as a komodo dragon." ???? Yes, that's normal toilet visiting for me. But things are about to change.
Having gone to a car boot sale in Norfolk at the weekend, I came across a gorgeous little door knocker.Kids or no kids, I would have bought it but as to where it would go, the gig-style audience of our lavatory dictated the answer. My boys love a novelty and while it may not last for long, the idea of a few loo visits where no-one can enter unless cordially invited has meant the toilet door has it. And it looks good.
"Knock,knock - can I come in?"