Since it’s my Birthday, I think some childhood memories are in order.
I was a very VERY spoiled child. The woman who was our neighbor when I was a kid tells the following story. Once, she came over to chat with my mother. After a while, 8-year-old Clarissa came home from school. In complete silence, she marched into the room, laid down on the sofa, hoisted her legs up in the air, and remained in that position.
“Erm, I’m sorry, what is she doing?” the neighbor asked.
“Oh, she is waiting for somebody to change her pants,” my mother explained. “She doesn’t dress herself yet.”