After a long day surrounded by a perpetual audience, I head straight to the bathroom for a moment of privacy. As soon as I settle in, I am bombarded by
boy questions/needs/demands that I field from my porcelain perch like an exhausted, seasoned three star general:
Why do I always have to get the mail?
Where's the umbrella?
Can you give me the car keys?
Where's Murphy's leash?
Why can't I walk the dog this time?
Can I have a peanut butter sandwich?
Where are the graham crackers?
Can I choose a different movie for my birthday?
Hey, Mom! ...Guess what???
And I just rest my weary head in my hands....
I thought I was the only one whose bathroom served the dual function of conference room.
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