"Good job, Mommy!"

We're potty training, finally. And "what's her name" (she's in between aliases for this particular moment of the day) doesn't understand that I happen to have already mastered the skill of using the toilet by myself. Thanks. But no sense trying to explain. Instead I get to hear, "Good job, Mommy!" and "Yay!" and clapping. Gee, thanks. I figure my dreams of ever having privacy in the bathroom again will never come to be. Once I am done raising "what's her name" it will be time for me to either be in the nursing home or a mental institution, and they monitor your bathroom usage there too.