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Scrub a dub dub in the tub…

In my house, no one goes to the bathroom alone. No, you do not have a human escort. Your companion is usually of the animal variety. Yogi is the classic bathroom buddy. He races in as soon as he sees anyone headed in that direction. Once you sit on the can, he sits right at your feet, looking soulfully into your eyes. Well, as soulfully as a dumb dog can get.
I do wonder what he is thinking when he is observing this process. Is he wondering what he can do to help, or what we are doing, and why we do it so many times in the day, and why we have to get out of bed to do in the middle of the night. Most of all, I think he is just wondering when he going to eat again.
The other night, I was soaking in a lovely lavender- scented bubble bath, reading a juicy murder mystery. Yes, I read in the tub (I bet you do too- come on, reading the in the bathroom? Is like an Olympic sport!).
John is on the can, which is located close to the bathtub. I am trying to relax and enjoy my book, when my vision was suddenly assaulted.
John dangled a half-used roll of toilet paper in front of my face.
Now for a little backstory- I am lazy, as you may know. When the TP roll is used up, it is hit or miss if I will replace it with a full one. If the roll goes empty on ME, I will usually pull down a full roll from the shelf, but it is not very often that I will put it on the spindle thingy. John has many theories as to why I do this, but I have one that is most applicable- I. Do. Not. Care.
Back to the tub incident.
John dangled this roll, and said, “Really?!”
I started to laugh, because I thought it was hilarious.
He did not find my hilarity nor the TP issue amusing.
Now, to defend myself (this is my story, after all) there WAS some paper left on the roll. Maybe about 5 squares, but it WAS on the roll.
I see now reason why John was so upset. After all, there was TP on the roll AND on the spindle.
Nevertheless, he did not see the humor in the situation.
His threat was to take all the half-used rolls of TP and store them in the garage, giving them to me when I hollered for him to get me TP because we were out.
I did not find that funny at all.
I guess he and I have different senses of what is funny.
Later that night, his knee was acting up, and he could not take any ibuprofen because it would interact with some other medication he was on.
I did the good wifey thing and found some acetaminophen in the first aid kit. I even brought it to him, and helped him take it.
He said that I was forgiven for the TP spindle roll incident, and that he will never say another word.
Yeah right.
I think it was the drugs.

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