First children live a strange existence, babies living in an exclusively adult world without any reference to other babies to take their cues from; instead their only reference for what is normal is their parents. So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when all Kathleen wants to do is pull books from the shelf and read them, not knowing what all children know - scriptures are boring - it's the books with pictures one should really like. And when she pulls out a book of Arabic sayings or Russian folk tales, well that's what dad does, too. There's no one to tell her that you're only supposed to look at one kind of funny squiggle.
So again, I shouldn't be surprised when Kathleen gets upset about my trips to the bathroom; after all, she has no mental connection between wearing diapers and not using the toilet. If mom and dad go in the room and shut the door, then she should too. Mom and Dad, however, disagree and enjoy the privacy of alone time in the bathroom.
So, Kathleen is stuck outside, furiously curious about, what goes on behind closed doors. And as Kathleen has never been accused of being a quiet child, she lets her displeasure be known by banging on the door and wailing loudly, begging to be let in. But lest any of you worry that she is distressed by separation from her dear parents and not separation from the dear toilet, don't worry. As soon as I open the door, she runs in, arms open, straight to her great love - the toilet, never giving me a backward glance.