Parenting has made me change my stance on talking in public washrooms, but only so far as 'Vocally confirm with me, independence-aged child, that you have not wandered off to Guam under cover of the blower dryers.'

My mother used to chirrup, like a bat. I would respond in kind.

Second of all, ew. Vengeful theatre ghosts should have accosted him at some less fraught point in his evening and stuck his tie in his gelato.

We are supposed to have some theater ghosts. One can but hope.