What the hell? So I'm head-down studying when I get a call from the bathroom, “DADDY!” in the same spine-tingling shriek Liza uses when I'm in trouble. So I saunter in and lo, she's got both hands on her hips and is looking at me with, again, the same look Liza uses when I'm in trouble. And she's good at it, too. I actually shrank back a little.
“What's the matter?” I ask and she points to the toilet.
“Daddy,” she says in her calmest, sternest voice, “you left the toilet seat up!” In the stunned silence that followed, she chastised further, “You KNOW there are girls in the house!”