Privacy, It's Been Gone So Long, It's Weird When I Have It
Dear M & M,
I have now written you 35 letters, and out of those, all 35 were written while you sleep, or while I am taking lunch at work (definitely while I am off the clock, if any of my coworkers ask). There is not much room for my own time when one, or both of you, is awake. Ever since this all started 18 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day ago, privacy has been harder to find than winning Powerball numbers. In fact, if I happen to get any privacy these days, I am like Marshall when he finally gets a drink off of the counter. I have no idea what to do next.
For the record, I have tried writing with you guys awake, but Marshall inevitably wonders over, and my posts end up looking like this: "I like to asdl;kfjsd;klfnoxvizu lksdjfaspoidfueljrls". If by some miracle Marshall decides to let me be, then the click of the keys evokes some sort of hunger attack in Maggie that forces me to drop everything and get you food before you unleash a rage like you are sitting through rush hour traffic and just got cut off.
I never realized how much privacy I had just two short years ago. I could read books, do school work any time, eat my food without sharing, and even go the bathroom, completely uninterrupted. I would just roll out of bed, whenever I felt like, get dressed without any doors closed, eat, and actually wonder what I was going to do next. My my, how things have changed. You guys tell me when I am getting up, when it is my turn to eat, and always check the doors of the rooms I am in to make sure you can come in (And don't feel bad, the child locks work on me too).
I don't mean to complain too much, because earlier today, I noticed that I can't even handle my own privacy anymore. It is like I have PLPPD, Post Lost Privacy Paranoid Disorder. My privacy has been lost for so many straight days now, that when I get it, I'm nervous, kind of like when I can't remember where I left my phone, and it is turned off, so I can't just call it. I wonder around, trying to retrace my steps, lost and confused.
As you guys napped, the house was so quiet that I had to walk back and check on you, and to no surprise, you were just napping. I approached your room with the same 6 steps down the hall that perfectly avoid every creak in the floor, slightly lifted the door as I opened it to prevent creaking, and held my breath as I got close to you two. Then, I went back to the living room, and sat in silence for a minute, to be sure I heard no sounds. Finally, I turned the TV back on, only to be bored in a few minutes, so I closed my eyes, and opened them 5 seconds later to see Marshall standing 2 inches from my face, getting ready to plant one of his patented, open mouth kisses that will result in a bite if I don't stop it. (it's the thought that counts tho).
No offense, but you too are always around. At this point in time, you do not do your own thing. Your mom and I are like the coolest kids ever at the party, and you two can't get enough, and in this case, life is the party. Marshall is already starting to come out of this phase, but the slightest noise from the other room causes you to come barging in, especially crinkling of a wrapper of the Snickers bar I had been saving for weeks. Maybe the day will never come when the opening of candy won't cause you to come get in my space (it still draws me in when your Mom tries to eat hers), but the day will come when you will do your own thing.
I will try to remember this all as I watch the handle rattle to the bathroom door as soon as I hit the toilet, and I sit there frozen, breath held, like a character in a horror movie while the killers try to come in. Besides, privacy is so rare now, I don't know what to do with it anyway.
Thanks for reading.
Love,
Dad
I have now written you 35 letters, and out of those, all 35 were written while you sleep, or while I am taking lunch at work (definitely while I am off the clock, if any of my coworkers ask). There is not much room for my own time when one, or both of you, is awake. Ever since this all started 18 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day ago, privacy has been harder to find than winning Powerball numbers. In fact, if I happen to get any privacy these days, I am like Marshall when he finally gets a drink off of the counter. I have no idea what to do next.
I don't mean to complain too much, because earlier today, I noticed that I can't even handle my own privacy anymore. It is like I have PLPPD, Post Lost Privacy Paranoid Disorder. My privacy has been lost for so many straight days now, that when I get it, I'm nervous, kind of like when I can't remember where I left my phone, and it is turned off, so I can't just call it. I wonder around, trying to retrace my steps, lost and confused.
As you guys napped, the house was so quiet that I had to walk back and check on you, and to no surprise, you were just napping. I approached your room with the same 6 steps down the hall that perfectly avoid every creak in the floor, slightly lifted the door as I opened it to prevent creaking, and held my breath as I got close to you two. Then, I went back to the living room, and sat in silence for a minute, to be sure I heard no sounds. Finally, I turned the TV back on, only to be bored in a few minutes, so I closed my eyes, and opened them 5 seconds later to see Marshall standing 2 inches from my face, getting ready to plant one of his patented, open mouth kisses that will result in a bite if I don't stop it. (it's the thought that counts tho).
I will try to remember this all as I watch the handle rattle to the bathroom door as soon as I hit the toilet, and I sit there frozen, breath held, like a character in a horror movie while the killers try to come in. Besides, privacy is so rare now, I don't know what to do with it anyway.
Love,
Dad
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