“That’s my toothbrush!” my niece exclaimed before her 2-year-old sister upon discovering her in their bathroom using her toothbrush.
In Aunt Amy’s defense when the little one asked for it, I had asked the youngster if the pink one was hers . . . apparently not. She liked wetting the toothbrush then sucking the water off the bristles in her mouth.
Then the day took a turn.
“You can’t lock the door!” he yelled upon barging into the bathroom, sans knocking of course. I was stunned, completely caught off guard by this explosive encounter in a room where most people prefer total solitude.
Looking back, considering the source of the shouting, the whole incident reads indeed like comical chaos:
Although my current clothing predicament was completely justified considering where I was & what I was doing at the time of the intrusion, the little rascal thought differently. Suddenly, just as quickly as he appeared came his abrupt exit, but not before my FOUR-YEARS-YOUNG NEPHEW delivered one last forceful bark to his ambushed aunt.
“And pull your pants up!”
By Aunt Amy