I am a stay at home mum to young kids. My days are peppered with requests, demands, near-misses, relentless questions, and should I have the audacity to leave a room in order to wee/put washing away/make a brew I am almost immediately summoned...for example I am frantically wiping on the toilet to the chorus of “muuuuummmy!” “Mummmyyyyy!!!!” “Where are YOOOUUU??” Or worse than that, a sudden scream or shout or cry because someone has got their finger stuck in something, or fallen off something, or an advert has interrupted their viewing pleasure or they just have to know what orange and blue and white make. I spend my day in a moderate to severe state of stress about what is going to happen next.
Anyway. In our house we have a small bedroom, small landing and a tight bathroom. When it comes to getting ready, I allow my husband his space upstairs to get himself ready while I stay downstairs. HOWEVER WHEN IT IS MY TURN TO GET READY, BRUSH MY TEETH, HAVE A PEACEFUL SHIT BECAUSE ANOTHER RESPONSIBLE ADULT IS IN THE VICINITY AND IS NOT MID-PUSH, I am constantly interrupted by him, the grown up. I am in the bathroom and he comes in, bashing me with the door, I’m trying to do my hair and he comes in to brush his teeth (which he forgot to do in the blissful uninterrupted 20 minutes of him-time which I can only presume he spent twiddling his knob or having the leisureliest of shits instead of brushing his teeth), I am trying to see how something looks in the mirror and he stands behind me waiting to squeeze past, trying things on with a silent audience standing awkwardly over your shoulder is most infuriating. I am putting my earrings in and he is shuffling behind me to get his bastarding socks. I am on the toilet with the door shut and he comes in to ask where something is ad nauseam.
Is it terribly unreasonable of me to expect a bit of bloody privacy and SPACE from the other adult in the house who is at no risk of twatting himself off the sofa while I dash upstairs, or putting his face in the grumpy cats belly while I am hanging the washing out or wanting me to witness him counting glacially slowly from one to one hundred?
I have taken to loudly shouting HIYA when he appears initially, and then as I hear him coming up the stairs to stand directly where I am standing I commentate “OH HERE HE IS AGAIN, IM STANDING RIGHT HERE IF YOU WANT TO SHUFFLE PAST ME OR BLOCK THE MIRROR?” And every single time his reaction is a sorry not sorry what’s the big deal 
face.
So, do I just accept this is my life- to have zero privacy at any time or during any bodily function (he has come in to talk to me mid tampon change for the love of god) or should I just twat him with the door now as a last resort when I hear him coming? Hide and shout boo to frighten him? Actually hide in a cupboard and see how long it takes for him to decide he wants to sit in that cupboard at exactly the same time?