Swimming in a Sea of Testosterone

Recently the husband and I moved in with my grandfather. It was the house I lived in before I got married. Well, we've been staying there for the past couple of months, we're not exactly entirely moved out of the other house yet. Some big blonde chick can't seem to get her butt in gear. The new living arrangements are going pretty well. We get along and there's not a lot of conflict. Just family sniping back and forth. There are some issues...such as lack of privacy and my mother and grandfather seem to think since I'm back they can treat me as if I was the teen that still lived there. They have a tendency to open the bedroom door and yell at me to wake up. And me not being a morning person has the urge to yell "SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!", but I'm afraid Jesus would get me for talking to my mama and papaw that way. Well that and the only language I can convey after just waking up is a series of grunts and monosyllables so it wouldn't do any good to yell anyway.

There's not any problem getting in the bathroom either, except when both hubby and grandfather and I all have to take a wee at the same time. It's hard for a lady to compete with two aging prostates.

Also my mother lives downstairs in a separate apartment. We occasionally see a sighting of her upstairs, kind of in the fashion of people seeing Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster except she's real. I think. So usually it's me and the two fellers. I declare sometimes I feel as if I'm choking on all the testosterone in the room.

Lisa