LIFE | Lesson of the day: Every bathroom needs a locked door.

Today I want to share a lesson I’ve learned since moving in with Dave and his family: Every bathroom needs a locked door.

I know, I know. That seems like common sense. But just in case you were thinking of moving into a house without, let me tell you from experience that it is not a good idea.

Up until last week, I lived in a house with no bathroom lock. And the only reason that changed was due to my multiple traumatic run-ins with other members of Dave’s family. Let me explain.

Dave’s house has one bathroom. This bathroom has no lock. It has a thin rectangular window above the door which is helpful in determining if the light is on, but that’s it. And it’s generally left shut even when no one is using it because they don’t want the bird to fly in there and shit everywhere or fly out one of the windows that are usually cracked open.

Since moving in, I’ve used four main indicators to determine whether or not it’s safe for me to enter the bathroom:

  1. Is the door open or shut? It’s typically shut, but if it’s open I can generally assume that it’s empty.
  2. Is the light on or off? If it’s on, someone is likely to be in there.
  3. Do I hear anything? Obviously if there’s water running then I should come back at a later time.
  4. Does anyone respond to my knock? If no one does, the coast should be clear.

Of course, things are never that easy though.


Incident One: Walking in on Dave’s mom

I know I became part of the family when I married Dave, but I really have no desire to have the type of relationship with his mother where we can pee in front of one another without a care in the world.

Imagine my surprise then when I walked towards the bathroom one night, saw the lights were off and the door open, to have the door slammed back at me because Dave’s mom was on the toilet.

How was I supposed to know she was there? The lights were off! The door was open! My indicators were telling me the coast was clear.

The coast was very much not clear.

According to Dave’s mom, the door was originally closed but swung open of its own accord. And the lights? I don’t think I ever got an excuse for that.

Needless to say I became a bit more wary after that first incident, hoping to never repeat it again. And while that specific scenario didn’t reoccur, I was blessed with two other variations before the bathroom finally achieved lock status.

Incident Two: Dave’s mom opening the door on me

Ah yes, the roles were reversed! But not quite.

You see, I was in the bathroom doing my business. The lights were on. The door was shut. I did all the things one should do when trying to relieve themselves in private, but it didn’t matter.

Next thing I know, the door suddenly flies open on me. I let out of a little shout, reach over from the toilet to shut it again, and am met with apologies from Dave’s mum.

She wasn’t even opening the bathroom door to use the bathroom! She had just put the bird back in its cage so decided to open the bathroom door to let some air flow through the house. She just came upstairs to whip the door open and go back down. That’s it. And of course she just assumed I was in my bedroom so didn’t think to knock.

Because, you know, I must never pee?

She apologised and left me to finish up and that was that, but oh, what an unwanted shock. At this point I was feeling pretty helpless. It didn’t matter what I do, the bathroom was not a safe place in this household. I had to be on guard during every pee.

And then the third incident happened.

Incident Three: Walking in on Dave’s brother… naked

Yes, you read that right. I walked in on Dave’s brother naked.

I did ALL of the things, reader. The door was shut. I checked the window to see if the light was on. I stopped and listened to see if water was running. I knocked. I did all of the things and yet I still failed to avoid the traumatic experience of walking in on someone naked. (Luckily it was just the rear.)

How does this happen? Why does this happen? Surely there’s a rule that a house cannot be built without a bathroom lock?

I’m not going to lie, I went back to Dave’s room and cried after this one. Not because it was a super traumatic experience (I mean, it was definitely unwanted and I’d prefer if it never had happened), but because I couldn’t believe that I lived in a world where a bathroom lock could be considered such a luxury. I told Dave I was considering just pissing myself in his room everyday instead of attempting to use the house bathroom after that incident because it was all getting to be just too much.

And I guess the tears were all I was missing because that same night, Dave came home from work and screwed a lock into the bathroom door.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I can now pee without fear of intruders! Hip hip hooray! And, as long as his family members remember to use the lock, I shouldn’t have to ever walk in on them naked or peeing or whatever else they like to do in the bathroom ever again. (Please oh please let them remember to use the lock.)

I never knew I could be so happy about such a simple thing.

Let’s Chat

Have you ever lived in a house without a bathroom lock? Did you guys manage it okay, or did it lead to wonderful incidents like the ones I experienced? And if you have had one of those awkward experiences where you’ve walked in on someone, tell me about it! I need to know others have felt my pain!

Asti signature

Related posts:


3 thoughts on “LIFE | Lesson of the day: Every bathroom needs a locked door.

  1. OMG he seriously just came home and put a lock on the door? So simple. So quick and easy. WHY DID IT TAKE THIS LONG?!?! Thank you Dave for finally taking matters into your own hands. I really hope they all use this lock from now on.

    I don’t think I’ve really had a similar situation, but I do have this memory from when I was really little — walking in on my dad peeing and being SO weirded out by it! But he was in the kids’ bathroom, not his own bathroom, so it was really unexpected! I’m glad that was the one and only time.


  2. I … actually would not be alive if I went through this trauma.

    My one experience with a lockless bathroom was my grandparents’ house when I was little. The house had multiple bathrooms, and it was only the one in the guest(/old child bedrooms) part of the house that didn’t lock. So there was never any danger of walking in on or being walked in on by my grandparents, it was only ever a risk with my siblings and parents, and sometimes also aunts and uncles and cousins. Which still wasn’t … great. In the end, a cousin made a little cardboard sign that hung on the door handle that could be flipped between ‘free’ and ‘engaged’ (don’t know why they word was ‘engaged’ and not ‘occupied’ or something. But it was definitely engaged, because I remember that was when I learned the word).


  3. Poor Asti! I’m so glad you finally have a lock on your bathroom. I mean, maybe it doesn’t bother them, but there’s another person living in the house now, and it very much bothers you. And it was such a simple fix!

    To be honest, I’m trying to think of one place I’ve lived where the bathroom had a lock on it, before I moved here. (And I refuse to use the lock here, it seems weird in my own home.) I’ve always lived places were people keep the door open when it’s not in use, though, so I’ve never had a problem. Well, except for the fact that my mom is notorious for barging in on both me and my dad whenever one of us is in the bathroom. She does this half-knock thing while opening the door, giving you no time to respond or prepare yourself. So yeah, that has always annoyed me but isn’t a huge deal because I’m used to it. And she’s my mom.

    My bathroom woe story comes from living at my aunt and uncle’s house while my two (male) cousins were still there. Their old water heater didn’t work that well, so if anyone else used water in the house, the shower would immediately turn freezing cold or boiling hot. That also meant that if you flushed the toilet before getting in the shower, you wouldn’t be able to get the temperature you wanted. Both cousins always take a dump before they shower, and since they couldn’t flush, they’d leave it in the toilet until they were done in the shower. Unfortunately, they always forgot about it. I can’t tell you how many times I opened the toilet lid to find a big pile of shit waiting for me. 😭


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.