I am beginning to see a trend

Why there have been several posts lately pertaining to bodily functions and excretions, I am not sure. Its most likely due to the fact that I am surrounded on a daily basis by boys and it is genetically encoded in their DNA to be fascinated by such things. I'm still trying to figure out why I find it so funny but that seems to be a separate issue. So the trends I am seeing here are as follows. 1) my boys are very comfortable with farting and pooping and anything of the like and 2) I apparently spend way too much time in the bathroom where a whole lot of my stories are starting to come from.

I was yet again in the bathroom and I have started to find myself pretty frustrated that the boys have gotten themselves in sync with my potty time. Every flippin time I have to go to the bathroom they run in there demanding that I hurry and finish because they have to go. Me being the good mother that I am and more importantly than that don't want to have to clean up their mess hurry and get off so they can go. But you know what? I need my toilet time too. Whether I need it or not I should feel more than comfortable to take a minute or five to just sit there. Guys get their good 20 minutes in the morning, I am lucky if I get 20 minutes in a week. So I decided that the next one to come in declaring I be de-throned, I was going to politely decline and ask them to wait for me to be finished. Now I was not going to be excessively mean or anything and cause a scene because remember... I have to be the one to clean it up, but just long enough to hopefully start instilling in their heads that this was just not going to be tolerated anymore. It just had to be Caleb. The one I was a bit more concerned with making a scene anyway. I had just sat down to pee when he ran in, naked as a jay bird, saying.... something.... well, actually I am not sure what he said. I can't understand him most days and then he had this stuffed up nose which made his indiscernible garble all nasally, anyway I got the hint he needed to go and I told him to wait. He did actually pretty good until he "F"- worded (remember, we don't use that word) So I said,

"Excuse me, what do you say?" and sure enough without missing a beat and looking as though it were completely my fault that the squirrels in his butt started barking,

"See I told you I have to go, now you get off the potty?!"

Fine, whatever. But I will remember this when I am like 90 and having disturbing issues in my undergarments that my children will just have to deal with. Personally I am hoping I just roll over and die before I get to the point where I am crapping my own pants, but if I don't.... well, they are going to wish they had respected my bathroom time a little better because I don't care if you are Mother freaking Theresa.... ain't nobody want to clean up their poopy mom.