Dear Little,

The other morning, you got up. Your dad was in the shower and you came in to tell me that you had to “potty.” Though these are the only seven minutes your dad gets to himself all day, and though he’s using the bathroom, you didn’t care. You had to potty. Now.

So, the whole family is piled into our very wee bathroom, which is even more tiny because you have your own pretty princess potty in it. You are sitting on the potty, and calmly look behind you to see your dad, in all his glory because we don’t have a shower curtain – we have glass doors.

I expected you to say “Mommy? What’s that?” or ask some question I’m not yet ready to answer. Instead, you tell me to leave and close the door behind me. I did. Then I heard you turn to your dad, who was there first mind you, and sternly state:

“Daddy – I need my privacy.”

We’re getting a curtain.