I can't remember the last time I pooped alone. Most of the time my audience sits quietly admiring my performance. Occasionally the magnificent noises that my body is capable of will influence a slight grin or a giggle. Sometimes I'm less fascinating than the drawer of hair ties that are just a few scoots away so I'm ignored but not alone. The hair ties and hairbands and hair brushes that are tossed at my feet are a nice little bonus to my experience. There are times that my audience is unhappy with how things are going. Screeching screams and loud cries become the soundtrack to me taking care of my business. Occasionally her mood is so bad that I have to pick up my little audience member and assure her that the next 3 to 5 minutes won't kill her. She just can't bear to be physically apart for that long and sitting at my feet simply wont do. We must be touching. My favorite is when she happily stands and smiles at me, with her hands on each of legs, despite the open door just a few feet away that she could walk out of if only I weren't so darn interesting. I can't remember the last time I've pooped alone, but I'm confident there will come a day when such a luxury is again available to me and I will be thankful for the absence of a small person at my feet during such a private time. I am equally certain that there will come a day when the quiet of the bathroom will make me greatly miss the days when things were thrown at my feet while I graced the porcelain throne.