The scene: me holding my laptop, which is open and turned on, in my left arm, while shutting the door to the downstairs bathroom with my right. Just as the door is about to close, I see my mother in the reflection of the mirror. She is about to go up the stairs, dressed in her morning robe, portable phone to her ear.

Mom: "Going to the office?"

Me: "Yes."

Mom: (to the person on the phone, who is probably asking something to the effect of, "Oh, Bayless finally got a job?") "No, the bathroom downstairs."

I love wireless Internet.