I was proud that I’d finally accomplished something around here; the bathroom was spotless! So maybe it was the only room in this joint that was, but I considered it a victory none the less.
I’d hung our nicest IKEA towel on the towel bar, along with one of the hand towels my parents bought us, and a wash cloth. Room complete! Job done! It felt good to have enough energy to complete something.
The next day…
Andrew: “Can we get a real towel? Every time I dry my hands on this crispy towel everything shifts and I’m constantly straightening everything out.”
I couldn’t type that without laughing. It’s so true. I’d noticed the exact same thing. By crispy he means stiff. It’s not a “real towel” as he put it—that’s for sure–but it sure looks nice! 😀
The whole “bathroom humor” takes me back to when Sheya was just a kitten. I was still in bed and Andrew comes into the bedroom laughing his head off. Sheya had run full speed ahead into the bathroom, jumping right into the toilet! I’m still laughing at the visual of our cat quickly rebounding out of the toilet as she realizes her error in judgement. We do put the lid down now.