When the Asshats were little, it was no big deal. I mean every mother of toddlers knows there is no way on earth you will get to take a crap without a toddler leaning on your leg bitching that you stink.
Then all of a sudden they got older and it was icky to have mom going to the bathroom while they were taking a shower or bath. The asshats started locking the bathroom door. Then they started taking showers thrice daily. Long extended showers.
Now that one is 21 and the other 17 the morning bathroom schedule has become the most intricate part of our day. The two asshats have the bonus of needing to leave the house always at the same time. I'm not quite so lucky. Eight is my "normal" start, but more often it bounces between seven or six.
What all this means is I haven't been able to get my digestive system scheduled. So even though I set my alarm to wake me up first, things don't always happen when I want them too. If Asshat #2 is in the shower, I can knock on the door and he'll at least try to speed things up.
Asshat #1 on the other hand can be a real asshole in the morning. As in he gets up at 6am exactly and if you're in the bathroom on his time you will hear a shit load of bitching. Once he gets up he goes directly to the bathroom and locks the door. He then spends a few minutes taking his own crap - the beauty of a schedule - and then his shower. Which will last exactly 20 minutes.
Exactly 20 minutes. No matter what. I can stand at the door pleading. I can hammer on the door. He pretends he can't hear me. I don't yell though, I never yell, because by the time I'm mad enough to yell, the force of yelling would cause me to shit myself. And I refuse to start the day shitting myself.
So instead I sit in front of my computer clenching my butt cheeks together as hard as I can and I sweat and I pray please, please be done soon. The sound of the towel snapping (he does this every damn time) is always the sweetest sound of my morning. It's the signal to start heading for the bathroom. Stopping every other step to do another butt clench.
Once I enter the bathroom, my rectal muscles get another challenge. Trying to maintain a hold on my digestive contents whilst playing slip and slide on the puddles and lakes of water covering the ceramic tile.
Finally the holy grail, the porcelain throne, whatever you want to call it is mine and it's right in front of me, but there is one last challenge my quivering anus must overcome.
Asshat #1 never flushes the fucking toilet.
No this isn't my toilet.
Do you seriously think I would have carpet in the bathroom with two boys?