alone time.

Since the day my son was born, I have probably pottied (is that a word?! Or have I officially become a 2 year old!?) alone only a handful of times.

Usually my shadow is right beside me. Giving me the plate of food he made for me. Asking me if he can hold me. Telling me that the sound of my tee-tee is making his "body" (ie. bottom) need to tee-tee too.

You get my point.

And if it's not pratt that's visiting with me, it's my cat. Yoda. Tapping on my hands with her hands, begging in her little cat voice to be rubbed...










I guess there's plenty of alone time when we're dead, right?

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