Do you go onto the roof?
This youngster has the best view. He can bark at whatever he wants and knows he is safe. He even naps up here.
Where do you go? I go to the computer but the TV is on and I am--right now--listening to George, complaining about something. Seinfeld is saying, "What kind of sick person does something like that?" I don't know, Seinfeld, I just want some peace and quiet so I can write. Try to write. Okay, I want to think about writing.
The bathroom used to be a sanctuary. Every mother in the history of the world has locked herself in the bathroom. At my house, my middle child would waggle her fingers under the door and say, "Can you see my fingers, Momma?" If I ignored her she laid with her ear fused to the floor and said, "I can see your feet." If I lifted my feet off the floor she panicked and I had to put them back so she didn't think I was sucked up by the bathroom fan. Or maybe an extraterrestrial. Maybe that's why she hates Sci-Fi, my sweet happy middle child.
And yes, I could ALWAYS see her fingers. The question is, can she see her children's fingers and can they see her feet? And does it drive her crazy?
I thought so. There is justice.
