Even my chanting of '24 out the door' is ignored by the 'kidults'
On the odd occasion when I encounter my grown-up daughters in daylight I chant at them "24 out the door" - a sentiment they blithely ignore.
To be fair, my 22-year-old daughter has moved to Paris for a year, but she's coming back in the firm conviction that she will be moving back into "my room".
Her "my room" carries far more conviction than "my house". As far as they are concerned its "our house".