It should go without saying that I’m not getting much time to myself these days. Because I have a wonderfully kind and loving husband, I do occasionally get to have a little lie-down on my own, but mostly I’m forced to sneak my “me time” in small doses. In the bathroom. With the door locked.
They’re on to me, though, the small ones. This afternoon as I sat blissfully alone in my sanctuary, I heard a tap-tapping at the door, and Petra’s voice asking, “Mama, can I come in?”
“Just a minute, Petra,” I called back. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” she answered, and it was quiet again. For a moment.
Then, “Mama?”
“What, Petra?”
“Are you just wiping?”