I had an especially trying time with my children yesterday and I told Audrey that I needed a few minutes of alone time. She screamed (toddler equivalent of talking) “Mommy, I want to have alone time with you” and wrapped both her arms and legs around me so that escape (or any movement) was physically impossible. I peeled her off of me, tossed her aside and began running. If I could make it into the bedroom while she was still airborne, I could lock the door and peace would be mine.
I made it into the bedroom, but it was too late. She shoved the door open with the efficiency of a battering ram, while I was fumbling stupidly with the lock. I have always been known for my MacGyver-ish resourcefulness, so I shouted “Look, there is an egg” and pointed in the direction of the living room. An elephant or a moose probably would have been a much cooler distraction than an egg, but as mentioned before, I needed a break and cleaning up pretend elephant dung or baking muffins for a pretend moose in the pretend forest was not on my agenda. Commitment to a pretend egg is much easier because you can just sit on the couch and pretend to eat it.
Anyhow, Audrey fell for the guise and glanced in the other direction. I took the opportunity and ran into the bathroom. I quietly shut the door behind me, cursing the tiny squeaks of the hinges, and huddled on the bath mat in the dark. I was truly enjoying my “alone time”, which could have elevated to “spa time” if I’d hidden in the bathtub instead of crouching on the bath mat, when I heard soft footsteps outside the door.
Audrey knocked and said the only phrase that could cause me to abandon my sanctuary “Mommy, I have to pee-pee”. How did she know that would work? I unlocked the door and she joined me in the bathroom. “Mommy, I love alone time with you”. My heart melted a little and I said “Audrey, I love alone time with you, too. Let’s go see if we can make an omelet and find a hungry moose”.