Territorial Pissings

I know it's a bit of a luxury but I have two bathrooms in my apartment. Attached to my bedroom is an en suite one, the sort that can only be accessed by going into my bedroom first. Though it's not at the back of the bedroom, it's one of those ones that you get to by going into the bedroom for just a couple of steps, then turn right and enter. To make things easy I'll refer to it as bathroom 47 from now on.

And, attached to the only other bedroom is another bathroom. This one has two doors; one coming off the bedroom and the other coming off the front hall. So it's an en suite and a communal one. Again to make things easy I'll call it bathroom 32.

When I was apartment hunting I realised that two bathrooms, though not essential, were pretty damn important. With two teenage girls frequenting my place, albeit sporadically, there were practical as well as timing considerations.

Girls like to go into bathrooms and do whatever it is they do. For ages. And then for a bit longer.

Men, we like to go in, have a dump, stink the place out, then leave. We like to read drum magazines and books, though we do draw the line at laptops or electronic readers. We like to sit and ruminate on the important issues in life; cars, women, sport and music.

And the two don't mix.

Secondly I realised that I like my own bathroom. I like to have a room where I and my loved ones can go and chuck out a few ablutions, not necessarily at the same time.

I'm happy for C or the girls to use bathroom 47, just not strangers, or even people that I know quite well.

I had thought things would be easy. A and K mostly use bathroom 32 as it's attached to their room. Sometimes they go into bathroom 47 and that's okay too. C, when she's around, tends to use bathroom 47 and again, that's okay with me, though I often have to drop a particularly nasty log to get rid of the smell of womens' perfume that wafts around after she's been in.

When there are visitors, should they need to point percy at the porcelain, I point them to bathroom 32 and all is good.

The system, not to be confused with the cistern, works. In fact, it almost works perfectly.

It's just that word, the "almost" that bothers me.

Look, I know they made me, gave birth to me, brought me up and whatnot, but still, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this, my parents' bathroom of choice is.............yes bathroom 47. Can you believe that? And it bothers me.

When I first moved in my Dad was pointed, to the extent that I even held the door open, firmly towards B32. He ignored me, went into B47 and it's been that way ever since. My Mum has followed suit. What can I do? They're my olds, I can't really tell them they're to use the other bathroom. But I kind of wish I could steer them gently towards B32.

Last weekend K had a friend staying over. On Saturday morning she said to me, in front of the aforementioned friend, "Oh Dad, is it okay if F has a shower in your shower?"

Well I tell you I was flabbergasted, with a capital flabber, though I didn't write it. I stuttered and faltered a little, then said, in a firm and assertive manner

"Yes of course it is K" After all I'm still British in many ways.

When F was in the shower I spoke to K to ask why, trying not to sound all territorial and eccentric, as if I was a bit of a nutter. She said something quite reasonable about the shower head in B32 not being very good. I told her that it was unacceptable, that guests had to use B32 and that B47 was only for me, C, A and K (when urgent).

At least that's what happened in my head. In reality I said something like "oh okay then, fair enough".

What do you reckon?

Anyone else have this territorial bathroom thing going on?