So the day that I was dreading has arrived. The day when I can no longer venture to the bathroom unaccompanied. Not because O just has to be with me at all times - no, it's because she is now supremely interested in That For Which She Already Has Several Names Thanks to Her Dad and His Amusement in the Scatological. (Alish's kid hums "A Love Supreme," mine says "doo-doo.") "What's going on in here?" her look implores as she pushes open the door. "What's going on?" as she peers up at me on the perch. Or best yet, "What's going on?" as she crouches down and with her little hands attempts to push a cheek up from the seat.

I find this less than conducive to doing what I need to do.