little kid cannot stand that I have a migraine.
He insists on leaning up against me, kissing my arm every few seconds, asking me how my headache is and wishing headaches didn't exist. It's very sweet, but every time I explain that I need a little quiet time he explains that he needs a doughnut.
And I feel for him, I really do. It must be terrible to want a doughnut so badly, probably almost as bad as feeling like the pressure inside of your head is going to force your eyeballs out of your cranium.
In the midst of this discussion, Big Kid burst from their bathroom and began shuffling to the other side of the house.
"What are you doing?" I asked, curious but not really caring.
"Using your bathroom!"
"Please don't! Use your own. That's my space."
"I can't poop in there! The water level is too low. No way."
"In the toilet! Trust me, I'm gonna need a lot of water. I'm using your bathroom!" he yelled as he galloped into my bedroom.
I was going to go hide in there, but now that plan is ruined.