When Zachary was a little less than two years old, I had asked him one morning for some privacy so that I could change my clothes. He understood that I wanted something from him, but he didn't understand what I was asking.
Happy to oblige, he put his little hand out as if to give me something. I presented my own hand to receive it. "Chee-coo," he said as he dropped the "privacy" into my hand. I laughed so hard that it made an impression and, ever since that day, Zachary has handed me "privacy" in the most imaginative ways.
This morning was a new one. "Can Mama have some privacy?" I asked as I readied myself for Mass. Zachary (2.5) held out his hand as if around a can. When I presented my hand he pressed an imaginary nozzle and squirted into my palm-- complete with sound effects-- a generous dollop of "privacy."
I may not see real privacy for many years to come, but in the mean time, at least I'll be amused.