I think I hear a small voice mumble in the hallway, “I need to go potty.” It’s Sam, who is never keen on asking permission for anything except going to the bathroom, which is the one thing he would never need permission for in the first place.
“Then go potty,” I holler.
I hear his door slam shut, then nothing. He’s gone back into his room. I stick my head through the door, and he’s laying on his bed with Bear. “Do you need to go potty?” I ask. He just looks at me. “Did you ask if you could go potty?” I persist. Blank stare.
Okay. Maybe I was hearing things.
Thirty seconds later I hear Sam crying in his room. “What?” I ask, sticking my head through the door again.
Sam sobs, “I need to go potty!”