Taking a rare shower this morning, I forgot where I was and got lost in the warm rainfall.

Then the door banged open and the toddler (whose father was watching, perched on crutches, just out of view) padded into the bathroom over to the stepstool by the sink.

“Tookatookatooka,” he said, pointing at the empty playdough container and Green Toys tea-set bowl full of mutil-colored fist prints he had just put there. Then he marched back out.

A few moments later he was back, with another empty playdough container. He poured the contents of the bowl into the canister. Then from one trademark yellow cup to another. Then he grabbed the lavender, recycled milk jug bowl and scooped some water from the cat’s dish. He poured that water into the playdough sculptures. Seven tiny, newly competent scoops, seven dumps. In silence.

And then he was gone.

Come on, now. How can I long for solitude when there’s that much cuteness in my house?