My mother would have killed him. Literally.(Which might have kept me from telling, but I would know that she would *believe* me. It happened to her.) And, yes, for all men, I'm appalled that so many women think you're all rapists.(But that is sad, because doubtless they were all groped by Uncle Chester or something.)

for all men, I'm appalled that so many women think you're all rapists

I'm worried about the men seem to think it too.

If you're on my FL, could you jump over and help me think through something? I'd ask here, but I'm so not ready for it to be public yet. [link]

lasted at work for two hours. not sure if it is bad allergies on a cold. but I need to sleep. driving home felt like a roller coaster ride. -- umm the roads are flat , if a little bumpy here.

Saw my dad naked later than I'd like. Mom naked didn't phase me. and I tend to run around naked. and forget to close bathroom doors.

ppptthhh. that for Erin's stupid people.

A few years back I just point blank told my mother "my bathroom door works--it shuts and everything. Please use it."

Once in a while, when my mom calls me, if we're on the phone long enough, I hear the toilet flush.

"Mom!!!! Why you gotta DO that?!?"

"Honey, you're not even in the room with me, and I gave birth to you, which was a whole lot grosser. Deal with it."

The Boy and I are fairly casual about using the bathroom while the other is in there, or leaving the door open and talking. And when he's changing clothes, or getting out of the shower, I invariably point and then go all tee-hee like a schoolgirl and yell, "Hey, you're NAKED!!!"

Never gets old.

But the famous Naked Dad story happend when I was about seven. I knew girls had vaginas and boys had penises. Check. What I was unaware of was testicles.

So I thought my Father had three penises.

Yes! Yes, this - it was a puzzlement to me. When I was wee both my parents = nekkid, with my dad only starting to become self-conscious about it when I hit puberty (when I was 17 & off to Canada for a year, leaving them hosting a girl from Seattle, he built himself & my mym an en suite bathroom to avoid unfortunate nekkidness incidents)

Erin's employers, incidentally - still dickheads.

Meanwhile, things that are rather depressing - the bloke I rather fancy, who's going to be leaving for China soon and shows no signs of realising that I am in fact a girl &, you know, right here, continues to be irritatingly fanciable. New things last night - arriving singing a slightly obscure song by one of my favourite singers, being entirely chilled with the fact that people assume he's gay (which is more than I can say for many straight guys of my acquaintance) and having a total zero tolerance policy towards his students if they use gay as an insult - booting them out of the room immediately, then going and talking to them about it. And getting quite worked up when someone in the group criticized his methods, and pointing out how much it sucks for any of the closeted gay kids in any given class if casual use of gay as a euphemism for crap is tolerated, but that equally there's no point in making it into a big confrontation with loss of face in the middle of the classroom because then the speaker gets pissed off & doesn't listen (and if they were bullying someone in the first place, said gay kid is likely to get their head kicked in later) and just generally being thoroughly sound and a good egg. And just -seriously, this is not happy-making. START BEING RUBBISH, ALREADY, BLOKE! And then someone mentions Dead Poets Society and he says, taking the piss out of himself but I still find myself rather suspecting it's true, that this is what made him want to be a teacher. Ack. Ack. Ack.

Really, this fancying business is just depressing. Want to switch it off.

After whole roomfuls of people (medical professionals, but still) watched me give birth, I got a whole lot less squeamish about peeing in front of Stephen.

And then once the kids are walking, they invariably *follow* you into the bathroom. There's no sanctity to bathroom time after that.

There's no sanctity to bathroom time after that.

I get this too and with the kids, ok sure - at least when they were little. What continues to flummox me are the pets. Why the dog AND cat feel they need to keep me company when I pee....no clue.

The cat knows it is safe - you can pet the cat, but you won't be picking him up. At least that's our theory.

4 typos. obviously an hour nap is not enough

Every morning, Amon follows me into the bathroom so he can writhe on my feet and get a belly scratch, even though he's just spent the last several hours sleeping at my hip. When we close the bathroom door all the way, the cats tend to cry forlornly and reach under the door in a desperate attempt to reach us. The inside bottom of the bathroom door is clawed to pieces.

They don't do this when I'm in the shower. I guess they know Mommy's going to be busy in the falling water and not petting cat bellies.