See, that was just ridiculous. If you haven't read the below post, go ahead and read that crap and then come back up here to real life.
There is something about the moments in the life of a parent of two (or, I imagine, more) kids when both (all) the kids are asleep. They make the children seem all innocent and lovable. Totally unlike when they are awake. When the children are asleep your life feels full and rich, instead of full of chaos and rich with poop like when they are awake.
But Sam wanted to remind me so he popped out of his room, said, "I better go to the bathroom." Which, I, unfortunately, took to mean he had to urinate in the toilet so I said, "Okay." Which he understood as, "Sweetie, go ahead and hang out in the bathroom like it is an all night rave." The thought process must have gone like this: I think I'll start by urinating on the floor, my pants and the toilet seat. I'll then unroll an entire roll of toilet paper to "clean it up." The only real way to follow that would be to knock over an open bottle of baby oil and try to help "clean that up," too.
And what the hell good is the scent of roasting marshmallows if I don't get to then EAT them?