10: The sanctity of doors.

Quasi-parenthood is having a long, detailed conversation through the bathroom door about why some people are shy about using the bathroom and why, in particular, I’m using the downstairs toilet for my morning scan of the newspaper rather using the one upstairs, which, for some insane reason, is in the same volume as the master bedroom because of architectural stupidity and not, as should be the case, in a separate, enclosed, and well-ventilated space.

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5: The snowflake in the blizzard.

“What do you want to do?” I asked Little Miss. It was our first time on our own, after a long stretch of getting to know each other in the company of The Troubadour, and it’d been a good while since I’d had a child in single-digit years in my jurisdiction, so I had a little bit of mental recalibration to do. I caught the little glint in her eye presaging an expression of interest in tiresome pre-processed media, and preemptively added “…that’s not TV.”

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