"You sure are popular," he said.
"It's a group text," I lied. I picked up our son and wrapped him in a towel and put him on the closed toilet seat to dry him off. My husband looked down at the white marble counter where my phone sat, the screen dark, but still chiming.
"Your phone isn't lighting up," he said.
"Nope," I agreed. "I turned all my notifications off."
"Why?"
"Because someone seems too nosy for his own good, and I'm allowed to have conversations without you in them."
"Well, who are you talking to?"