You are generally a polite and cooperative little person. But every single time we ask you to go to the bathroom, you squawk and resist with ferocity.
Once you eventually concede, you spend 15 minutes doing god knows what in there. It doesn't seem to matter how often we ask you not to play in the bathroom, you are not deterred.
I think it's because, most of the time, your play isn't "play." Your play is work. You're working on something. You're practising, observing, exploring - and doing so in the most direct, linear way possible. The way a surgeon practises sewing up dolls.
So tonight, just after you went to bed, you got up to go to the bathroom just one more time "Because... In the middle of the night, if I *really* need to go pee, I can. Yeah I can. It's ok Mama."
You were in there for a while, but Hubby and I didn't pay much attention.
And then, just now, when I came up to bed, I found this on my bathroom counter.
A handful of about 50 sheets of toilet paper. Individually separated and stacked in a perfect little Fraggle pile.
And I've never been so happy.
Because this is YOU my darling. Quietly working in the bathroom and then toddling off to sleep on your own.
I love you. You are my joy.