A Little Privacy, Please

So the other day, in a wild attempt to get just a few moments to myself, I dared to lock the bathroom door. A whole potty break without a preschooler turning the lights on and off? A little slice of heaven.

Of course I was afraid I'd have to exchange the flickering lights for the preschooler beating the shit out of the door. He threw his whole body at the bathroom door and wailed like his puppy just died when my mother locked the door while she took a shower a few weeks ago. But he only yelled at me that the door was locked and then went away to find something else to do. Like light the kitchen on fire. But I don't care! Because I got to poop. alone. finally.

Could the "shitty threes" finally be coming to an end? More likely he's plotting something hugely evil and just being sweet to throw me off my game...