Nocturnal Wenchy

Hello….!

Firstly let me just say HI to Tienie who is wonderful at reminding me to blog often and much. 🙂 Hello bokkie, ons mis jou ~!!

As a long term relationship progresses, we start to get into the real life scenario and the harp playing become less and the slow motion movements and soft focus kinda fades. When you start living with a romantic liason, there are things you had kept out of the eye of the man you love which now jump to the foreground. Asshole things.

The man who says you are perfect in every imaginable way, may notice that your face do not look like an Estee Lauder sales person when you wake up. Your make-up may be smudged, or if you are really proper you would have washed, toned and moisturised before bed which means you kinda look without colour really. You eyebrows may need waxing, tinting and your may have a break out of prementrual acne! You may have a container with tampons in the bathroom. Mine very aptly is an old cookie tin. It says “Sweet Cookies“. Noid says that is not funny at all. lol

While that “just had sex hair” is indeed very aluring, the “I washed my hair before bed and didn’t dry it…. and then I slept only one one side, so I look like an idiot” may come into play (John Carey comes to mind). You may even be gentle, or ungentlemanly told that you snore so badly, an Amy Winehouse concert crossed with an orchastra of vuvuzela’s would not wake you.

Now, if you know me, you will know I have issues… and I have MAJOR toilet issues. Actually even the word toilet is crass. LOL

I met my first husband when I was 14. No, we were not Amish …. just co-dependant. Initially, I felt uncomfortable, but it appearded one had to do the bathroom bit with boyfriend/husband in the room, as one apparently does. I didn’t love it. I think I was purely to young to enforce what my gut told me (step away from the bathroom!). By the time we got divorced when I was 24, I had the bathroom thing down.

Well, I couldn’t have loved it that much, as I promised myself bathroom time, is time the fuck ALONE when I got divorced. I don’t care which numbers you are doing, my maths suck and I would like to do it alone thank you very much. From that day one, there were no more shared bathroom breaks. Not with anyone, not even toddlers. I can block out a screaming kid, knocking or kicing at the door (Liam) like nobody’s business.  Go away you ghastly child. I never had that mother earth voice: “Mommy will be right there sweetie, just a second. No don’t hit your brother….” .  When forced to respond, I was more the “Go away!!!! ….and if you have given your brother three clear warnings to stop that shit, hit him.”

Yeah, there are days I look  rather unpleasant when I woke up. I have bad hair, sex hair, clear skin or spotty skin. I am clothes, not clothed, need a wax, a tint and a bit of make up never hurt anyone… I may be the most unpleasant Amy Winehouse concert you ever attend, No! No! No! but I promise there is no shared bathroom breaks. EVER.

My husband disagrees. He thinks one should share all. I say. No! No! No!

I wish you enough,

Wenchy

PS. I don’t get woman who seem to need each other to go to the bathroom together either. Hell no. If you wanted to inform me of something remotely interesting, BBM me under the table dammit. You are much stronger than you think. You can go ALONE. My kids are all very nicely potty trained and my husband is quite capable to go alone. Therefore, I have no need to accompany anyone to the bathroom. Unless there are sexual favours on offer – use the handicap bathroom. Lots more space.