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I have not been in a bathroom with the door closed for nineteen years.
This is what being a grandma is all about.
If I closed the door, I would either pinch little fingers 
or the baby punk’n carrier seat would not fit in there with me.
I have willingly given up the luxury of privacy, and here is the perk.
When I lose my mind for good I plan to stick up a mean-looking
Convenience store with bars on the windows.
Something in a seedy neighborhood, where the owner is apt to be packing.
One of three things will happen.
One. I will be shot dead by the clerk who does not know my gun is fake.
Two. Death by cop. I am sorry, but if it is to be, it is to be.
Three. I will be taken alive, and given a cell and a roommate for the rest of my life.
I can stop making house payments, and luckily, I already know privacy is no big deal.
Think of all the money my children will save by not having to pay for a nursing home too.

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