The kids have taken over my bedroom. Understand, they each have their own room. They collectively have a family room, living room, and a small office. Why should they want my room as well? I have no idea, but I'm sure that Victorian England may have known. "The sun never sets on our empire."
I've had a chain on my bathroom door for years, to keep The Girl from marauding in my creams, sprays, and powders. I added a lock to the chain when she finally started using a chair to reach the chain. Today, I found that she had slipped in through the opening, wrecked the place, and slipped back out, like Osceola from his prison cell. *sigh*
I shortened the chain, but the next step is to put a combination lock on the bedroom door and establish some territory. It's like a range war -- fence 'em in or fence 'em out. Then I have to put a cat flap in my bedroom door so that cats can get to the litter box. 'Cause God forbid I give The Girl access to the litter box.
It's like the frikkin' wild west. This has to end. It's making me a crazy person who puts cat flaps on interior doors. Mama said there'd be days like this. She just didn't say it'd be every day.
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