One day a couple years ago, I was doing just that, sitting on my throne in the bathroom, aka the library. My Mr6 (then a Mr4) knocks on the door.
He tries to turn the knob.
"Gammaaaa, I want to tell you something."
I ignore him.
He then passes a note to me under the door.
As a teacher, I was just thrilled and proud to see my Mr4 learning to write on his little notepad.
As a Nan, I was, well, just tickled.
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