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constipation

paul ran into the kitchen. my mom made as if to follow him.

paul: no!
paul: stay there.
my mom: are you doing something?
paul: almost.
paul: don't come into the kitschen. [i love the way he says this]
me: but i'm thirsty!
paul: don't be thirsty.
me: okay.

paul then crept into the living room and hid behind a chair.

my mom: are you pooping?
paul: almost.
my mom: are you ready?
paul: almost.
me: can i go to the kitchen?
paul: no.
paul: enjoy your laptop.
me: enjoy my laptop?
paul: yes.
paul: close your eyes.
my mom: are you done?
paul: almost.
me: are you walking around?
paul: close eyes.
me: i can hear you walking around.
paul: don't hear me walking around.
my mom: i think he's having a hard time.

we could be here for hours.

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