She was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom this morning.
No, no — not one of my children, although, as you can imagine that has happened to me more times than I care to remember.
Every mother quickly learns that the bathroom is a refuge.
Every child learns just as quickly that if he (or she) waits long enough outside the door, Mom will eventually emerge.
And she can hear you if you talk to her through the door.
If a sibling is being mean and Mom is in the bathroom, a note under the door will sometimes expedite her emergence.
But she may not be terrible happy about it.
Bathroom = Sanctuary
I imagine, if Quasimodo hadn’t had Notre Dame to carry Esmeralda into as he rescued her from the gibbet, if he hadn’t had that great cathedral to escape to, he would have found a bathroom.
I no longer have to use the bathroom as a hideout from my children, though.
Yes, young moms, your children will one day learn to leave you alone in there.
Or they will be so busy with their lives that they won’t care one whit if you’re in the bathroom, the bedroom, or any other room in the house. As long as they are fed and the wi-fi is working, the natives will not be restless.
Yes, a cat.
She follows me around the house. Down the hall. Into the kitchen. Into the living room. Up and down the stairs — not on quiet little cat feet, like the fog, but thumpity-thumpity, like an angry rabbit.
She loves the bedroom where she can hide under the bed and pounce on my feet as I walk around it, straightening the sheets and blankets. I think she especially loves that she can still surprise me
I draw the line at the bathroom.
Her litter box is just around the corner. She likes to supervise my cleaning of it, patting her paws on the scooper as I sift the litter and, um, the other stuff.
But, no, I don’t want her in my bathroom.
It’s that sanctuary thing.
So she sticks her paws under the door a few times to let me know she’s out there and then she waits.
Do cats outgrow this sort of behavior?