Sunday, July 8, 2007

Number 2 in One



The three of us share one bathroom. Things get a little tight, especially in the mornings, and especially because our, ahem, movements move around the same time.

As I was showering this morning, nature called my husband. It was an urgent call, so I beat it out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and still dripping. Of course, Nick's colon started to bark soon after Frank hit the head, so he began to beat on the bathroom door. Minutes later, hub trudged out.

My son raced in, and just as quickly, raced out of the bathroom, holding his nose. "Mom," he said. "It's really bad in there."

I go in to open the window, and sure enough, it's pretty bad. I'm grumbling because I'm the one who has to open the window.

"Mom," son complained. "It wouldn't be so bad, except Dad used that Renuzit junk, and now the bathroom smells like fruity poo!"

If they can put a man on the moon, why can't they make an air freshener that works?

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