I'm not a very private person. Having a blog should be your first clue, but if that's not enough, then let me tell you again: I am not a private person.
I was recently asked to finish this sentence: "One thing people don't know about me is..."
I couldn't think of a thing. Still can't. My first thought was, well if you don't know me, you probably wouldn't know anything about me. That just seems to be common sense. Then I thought about all the people who do know me. They probably know everything about me. Or would, if they just asked.
Ed on the other hand, is kind of private. Not secretive private; that's something completely different. I have people in my family who are secretive private and that's just annoying. But he's private in the sense that he really just doesn't think to tell people things. Anything, really. And he's big on personal space and his privacy within that space.
I will talk to almost anyone through a bathroom door. I might even talk to someone standing in the bathroom with me while I'm peeing. In fact, I can tick off at least ten people I'd talk to while I was peeing. Ed will have none of that. Oh, he'll talk to me while I'm peeing, but God forbid I crack open the door to talk to him while he's in there. I've almost lost a finger because he's closed the door so quickly.
In fact, in the truck, he will LOCK the bathroom door. Lock it. Let me remind you that the bathroom door in the truck is just like one on an RV. For those of you who've never been in an RV, imagine a flimsy screen door circa 1972. Not much to it. Locking it doesn't really provide all that much security. Yet he still locks it. Drives me crazy.
I've written about this before, that it has to do with how a person was raised, I guess. Me, I was raised with a mother and Aunts who would sit on the tub while the person was on the toilet, carrying on coversations so long, a ring formed on their ass. Women who walked around in their bras from one room to another, not giving a second thought to who might be in the room. We were all family.
So how long does it take for someone to reach that level of comfort? Does it ever happen? What's your experience with this? Are you a bathroom talker or a bathroom door locker? What about your significant other - talker or locker? Let me know!
In the meantime, I'm going to go pee. And I think I'll talk to Ed from the bathroom just to see if he'll answer me.
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