Today’s post will be a frightening exercise in over sharing that will require soft moist bleach towelettes to be handed out as you exit.
This is necessary for the mind wipe (no pun intended) you will need to perform after the gratuitous bathroom images are set in stone inside the grey matter of the brain.
In advance, I’m sorry for exposing you to a part of my life that would normally only be necessary if we were planning on becoming cell mates
Ten minutes ago I set up shop in the bathroom of my house to get a few moments of what is usually blissful silence. I brought my iphone, an entertainment weekly and my hopes for an incident free experience.
My five year old set up camp outside the door in the hallway bringing his brothers droid phone and using the Talking Tom app to utter phrases such as “when will you be done?” and “I need to use the bathroom too!”
That is when I suddenly looked up and noticed that one thin singular square piece of toilet paper was all that remained of the once majestically plump roll.
Normally this would not have presented any sort of problem as I would have just sauntered down the stairs to the closet with my pants around my ankles (because WHO would pull their pants up in such a situation) and grabbed a new roll.
Today this would prove impossible due to the number of workmen walking freely through my downstairs.
Sometimes during moments of adversity and crisis we find out exactly what we are made of and I’ll have you know that today was not a proud day.
I’ll just leave it at that and hand you your bleach wipe as you all shuffle disgusted out the door.