I am a pretty old school girl, and I live a pretty old school life, but that does not mean that I don’t have modern and informed opinions.
When it comes to chivalry, you don’t have to worry about me like a poor helpless woman. I can open my own doors, put gas in my car, and check the engine’s oil level. I love a good power tool and a big project to tackle. I mow my own yard because I like it and I wash my own cars.
When you offer a helping hand, I appreciate it and I will most often accept it, but I don’t catch the vapers and faint when you don’t.
However, here is where I draw the line.
When I am at the store and the family bathroom door is locked, I expect to see a parent with kids coming out of it or a disabled person with a companion. I am standing outside the door with a 5 year old, a 3 year old and a baby. None of us are enjoying this wait. The 5 year old is pretty trustworthy but has zero tact and is announcing to the people around us that he has to go pee. The 3 year old is not so trustworthy and she is starting to squirm. The baby is hanging in there but she is not getting any drier and I didn’t bring a back up outfit, and me…well, my bladder has been through 3 pregnancies in 5 years. So no, waiting is not a great situation for us to be in.
All of that considered, you can imagine the feelings I have towards you as you waltz out of the family bathroom that you have been holding hostage with your perfectly able and single body. The men’s room is literally 5 feet away, USE IT. And thank you for smiling and nodding as you rush past me. That made me feel much better. I also appreciate the fabulous smell you left in your wake. Really, that was the perfect finishing touch to your thoughtfulness.
Go. Poop. In. Your. Own. Bathroom.
…………………….and don’t even get me started on the young dude that popped out of a nursing stall the other day at the mall………………
