In the early days, that is to say pre-children, I never thought for a second what joy could come of using a bathroom facility alone. All by my big-self. Now that I have children I understand those many, many years were wasted (ha!). I realized too late that it was a brief moment of solitude, a vacation I never took or even knew existed until the beasties came alive.
Post children, the first few months and even the first year I started to slowly realize that a minute in a bathroom without interruption, children, tasks or a wife was a golden opportunity to do absolutely nothing- just to think for a brief moment without feces, tantrums or orders being thrown at me.
That old job vacation time didn't roll over when my new career as a parent began in earnest.
I have adapted to a level that makes me appreciate and understand how we as humans slowly over hundreds of thousands of years shed our tails and slowly began to walk. And build fires. Even invent deodorant. My point is going to the bathroom now couldn't be any farther from the opposite of what I was used to for the last 39 years.
Given my new found adaptive techniques, I still try to sneak off and just go pee for a second. ALL BY MYSELF. It doesn't happen- ever.
All of the things boys and men have learned over adolescence and adulthood have gone by the wayside. Don't talk to a guy next to you while going to the bathroom?- Ruined. Look over at a guy (or worse, DOWN at a guy) while hes peeing?- Forget it. Touch a dude during the act- UNFORGIVEABLE...
When these cardinal rules were first broken I was unable to handle any of the offenses well. Miller would tear into the bathroom just as I was ready to 'go'. An ensuing stalemate occurred- lots of looking. Up and down. Staring happened frequently- for both of us. After a while it got cute- he would offer me some tissue after I was done. We do live with two ladies, I'll give him that...
Later phases of 'WFT' elevated into a bearhug around one of my legs in mid- stream. Staring was still the predominant action but the touching added a new level of difficulty to the task.
As for the adaptation, I'm equally proud and embarrased to have conquered all levels of potty terrorism my children have inflicted on me. A 5 piece Mariachi band could walk in on me these day and I wouldn't blink an eye. Lets do shots, I say!
Come hug daddy in the bathroom...