We were in a public restroom on Sunday, Reid and I together in the handicap stall and Aunt Karin somewhere else. As Reid, who denied needing to go at all, put down roots – her usual M.O. – Aunt Karin knocked on our door and then kicked the stroller’s wheel. Reid grinned at the hijinx and the news that I thought the culprit was Aunt Karin. Finally asked Karin to come watch over Reid so that I could use the facilities myself. As Karin walked in, Reid chortled (yes, I’m pretty sure that is the only verb to describe her tone and expression), “It’s was you!” As though, one part of Reid knew that Aunt Karin was another part just couldn’t believe it until Aunt Karin walked through the door.