This parenting thing is crap.  Kids are crazy. 

Derek is running down the stairs, around the corner, into the kitchen, down the stairs, then up again.  He is doing this because in a fit of anger today, I may have locked the bathroom door to keep The Boy out of there.  I distinctly remember a conversation we had a week ago that went like this...

K:  So how bad would it be if we, say, locked the bathroom door?  It only has that little whole in the middle of the knob.
D:  You just have to pop that little button in that whole.  It's no big deal.

He's on his third trip back up the stairs (with his 9th, 10th and 11th possible solutions in his hand).  He has said words under his breath that even I don't know the meaning.  Apparently it is a little more difficult than anticipated.

But he just doesn't understand the day I had today.  All I wanted to do was lay down for 20 minutes.  I don't think that's a lot to ask.  But The Boy can open the bathroom door because it has one of those handles for old people (and 20 month old children as well, I guess).  But if he gets in the bathroom when I am lying down, then he dumps out all the expensive shampoo, climbs into the sink, turns on the water, takes out the electric razor and shaves his face, and then brushes his teeth with MY toothbrush.  It's your guess which part sends me right over the edge.

Is now a bad time to mention that we only have one full bath?  Glad I don't have to go to work tomorrow.  That would be a real downer...

As a side note,  The Boy climbed into my bath this morning.  God forbid he leave me alone for 2 minutes.  He started to point and say "Boo."  OK, he tried to touch me and say "boo."  I told him not to touch my chest because it was my privacy.

E:   Pi-ous-sy.

That's right, buddy.  That's my pious-y.  Don't knock a little self-righteousness and don't tell your father.