One of our newly-instated house rules concerns not entering a room with a closed door without first knocking and being told you can enter. The bathroom is really the primary space we’re talking about, of course, and while I appreciate Miles not barging into the actual toilet while I was in there this evening, I stepped out and immediately found him lying in wait just outside.
“HEY COOL DUDE! YOU A COOL DUDE? I’M GOING TO HIT YOU IN THE FACE!” Miles, clad in his “cool dude” sunglasses and armed with two stuffed animals, came at me and promptly hurled the toys at my head.
But hey, at least he didn’t open the door?
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 