Daddyman @ Home: Sharing a Bathroom

My son and I currently share a bathroom. Granted, at him being 3, I own more of it than he does, but we usually get along pretty well, especially near the ending stages of potty training.

As the end of my full time employment with the library is ending, I had one last training event to conduct for KCMLIN Wednesday. As is par for my course, whenever I have to get in front of a class for teach, the electric razor rests and the shaving cream and flat razor come out.

How the routine usually works is that I get in the shower, then poke my head in to get him stirring, then head in to shave and perform other manly rituals in front of the mirror.

Normally, I have to poke my head back in his room to get him going. Wednesday morning was a rare exception...and one I didn't take kindly too.

I'm in the bathroom shaving, the door mostly closed. Just as soon as I'm about to drag the razor across the edge of my upper lip, my son comes in, pushing the door open, bumping my elbow., causing me to take a nice sized chunk of skin where lip and skin meet.

Ouch.

I don't have time to get mad or upset because I still need to finishing shaving while bleeding. Thankfully my lip was the last thing to shave, so I finish that up and start splashing warm water on my face to get rid of the excess cream and to clean the blood off my face.

"Daddy! You're bleeding!"

I wanted to say, "no shit, shirlock" but left it at quick and short "I know buddy."

So I spent 20 minutes of my morning with toilet paper on my face, waiting for the bleeding to stop and a scab to form. It was right on the edge of my lip, so not only could I not put a band aid on it, I also couldn't lick my lips for fear of ripping the scab off and going around holding a tissue to my face.

My son and I had a nice conversation on the way to daycare about the importance of knocking when someone else is in the bathroom first.

So, at the training session, I tell the story to get a laugh, and joke the rest of the day I was in a bar fight.