Pay no attention to the boy behind the curtain

As part of my mommy duties, I'm constantly picking up little things here and there: tennis shoes (size 6), toy dinosaurs, books, blocks, food, cups and socks.

As I walked into my son's room to deposit these items in the appropriate place, I was stopped dead in my tracks.

"No, momma," he said. "Get out of my room." He was standing behind his toy box, wrapped in his curtain, frowning at me from between the folds.

I scowled at him and when about my mommy business.

"No, no, momma," he vehemently reiterated. "Leave me alone."

"Son, that's not a nice way to talk to momma. Why can't I stay in your room?"

"I poopin." I hastily made my exit.

He can't stand to be watched while he's pooping. Good Lord, he is already inheriting all my stupid idiosyncrises.

What I wouldn't give for this kid to take a crap on the pot, behind closed doors, book in hand like the rest of us. Ugh.