Let Me In, Do You Hear Me?

         I'm cowering in the bathroom behind a locked door. Actually, I'm stretched out in the empty bathtub attempting to peel open a chocolate bar wrapper with bated breath and my tongue sticking out. The foil-type paper is resisting my efforts and its crinkling echoes off the dry porcelain. No one in a television ad struggles like this. I pause to listen.

         I hear heavy breathing. Is it me? Am I the one panting? No, something is outside and snuffling. As I watch, the door knob wiggles and rattles. Rapid knocking shakes the door. When that stops, the pounding begins.

         With no time to waste, I rip into the wrapper with my teeth and tear off a decadent mouthful of sweet chocolate.

         "Let me in! Do you hear me?"

         Wide-eyed, I chew and swallow. I shiver. I squirm.

         "I know you're in there.Mooooommm! Open the door! Whatcha doin'?"

         In disbelief, I spy fingers slipping under the door and scrabbling about. With a stretch ,I rise to my feet and stuff the evidence in a back pocket. Sighing, I cross to the entrance and pull my temporary barricade open.

          I swipe my lips with the back of one hand and I smile at my young son.

         "Oh, I'm just enjoying some Mommy time. You always know where to find me, don't you?" ( 221 words )