If you are a parent, you know that the words "privacy" and "bathroom" will not be used in the same sentence again for awhile. However, there are fleeting moments (as children get a bit older) when you can actually find yourself alone in the bathroom, with the door closed. It might be a good time to leaf through a couple pages of a magazine or make a phone call or even stare blankly at the wall in front of you for as long as you feel you can get away with being "gone".
This morning I found myself in such a lucky position as being alone in the bathroom, and the heat came on. Oooh.... to be in a cozy, small bathroom when the heat goes on... it takes me back.
I grew up in a house with one small bathroom that was, for a time, shared by six people. On the lucky mornings when I found myself in there when the heat turned on, it was pure heaven. There were two heating vents that were ideal for dressing in front of, but the bathroom was the best because you could close the door and trap all the lovely warm air inside.
I'd grab my pile of school clothes and hustle to the vent as soon as I heard the furnace in the basement start it's soft roaring. Hurriedly, I'd pull things on and then squat in front of the vent, blouse hanging open, while the hot air caressed my torso and billowed my shirt around me. The glorious heat, smelling dry and warm, giving me goose bumps, comforting and relaxing. For a few moments as the warmth surrounded me, all was right with the world.
Always, after too short a time, the blowing air would start to cool. I'd stay there until the last bit of lukewarm air touched me. As soon as the air cut off, I'd wrap my blouse around me as quickly as I could, the still-warm fabric lovely on my skin. I'd linger as long as possible in that cozy, heated bathroom until, finally, I had to re-enter the cooler house.
Still, for those fleeting moments that came around again and again, life was good.