Today while we were out shopping, I took Gal Smiley to the bathroom for a diaper change (don’t even ask us about toilet training — she is definitely winning that war). The change table, as is common in small bathrooms, was inside the handicapped stall, so after I finished the diaper change I shut the door to the stall so I could pee too.

Gal Smiley was in a pretty cranky mood but she got pretty excited when I sat down and ripped off a piece of toilet paper, to have at the ready. When I was done, she had a minor freak out when I attempted to wipe my own butt. She screamed, “I want to wipe your bum!!”

Gal Smiley, you get to watch me blow my nose, change my clothes, and heaven knows, I can’t remember the last time I peed by myself. You get to come and poke me while I’m sleeping in bed at 5:30am and you get to ask me what I’m doing while I’m clipping my toenails. You can have a look in my mouth to see how many teeth I have and you can poke my tummy to see if the baby is really in there. But when it comes to wiping my bum, I have to draw the line somewhere.