Enter child #2. Knock, knock. "Who is it?" I asked.
Without missing a beat, child #2 barged in the door. "Could you grade my math paper?" the child said.
"Is this some kind of joke?" I replied. "When I left the room a moment ago, your father was sitting inches from you at the kitchen island. Is there a reason why you couldn't ask him to grade your paper?"
Child #2 mumbled something about daddy not hearing him when he asked. I silently wondered why it seemed easier to walk all the way upstairs than to ask daddy again, or perhaps touch his arm. I decided asking this question would be futile.
I enjoyed another 7 seconds of peace.
Enter child #1 again. "Can you please help me get ready?"
Sigh. Privacy and peace are elusive around here.