I locked myself in the bathroom

I locked myself in the bathroom.
Like an old man, I grabbed a book, opened the door, turned on the fan and took a seat. But I never "went". Well that's not true. I peed once.

I heard footsteps trample past and the muffled voices of children snipping at each other. I heard my husband yelling at the TV as though the football coach could hear his critiques.

At our house a closed door with the fan on is like having skull and crossbones on the door. You would enter at your own risk and we all know it's not a risk we want to take.
So it's a perfect cover for 15 minutes of semi-silence (semi because clearly muffled voices isn't true silence).

I'd hit my limit of tolerance and I need a quick Apple iCharge turbo save me. I waltzed in, put the toilet seat down, sat and read. It was heaven. Obviously not real heaven where they have wine and cheese and background smells of fresh spring air. But that's not realistic. So the bathroom has become my refuge.

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