Myself, I learned to fear the 'great casualness.' It was patiently explained to me that it 'didn't matter any more'; that if I happened to be perched on the throne when she wanted something from the bathroom, she could simply barge right in.
What a terrible thing to do to a product of American Victorianism.
How true - some things are better left to the mysteries of the ages. You can be as close as you like, but some personal space on occasion is still nice. It's a delicate negotiation!
Of course, other niceties also fall by the wayside. My wife and I have degenerated to the point of Dan & Roseanne. We had the following conversation this morning; by way of background, she's come down with a horrible cold...
"In case there was any doubt, I am officially dying."
"Officially? But I haven't made any arrangements yet!"
"Well, just remember, mixed flowers are cheaper for a casket spray than roses."
"Flowers?"
The tissue box missed my head by mere inches...