I am with our twin granddaughters, who recently turned 3, and their 1-year-old sister in the attic of the old house where they live. The attic has small paned windows with thick wavy glass on either side of where a chimney used to be. The gabled ceiling cocoons the wide open space, creating an idyllic place for play.
One of the twins announces she has to use the potty, which is down the stairs and at the end of the hall on the second floor.
She pauses at the top of the stairs, tosses back her head of curls and sweetly says, “Don’t anybody touch my stuff.”