The door to the bathroom shut (loudly) and just as quickly as he entered, the door re-opened.
"Emma! Why is you hairband in the toilet?!"
I tried to open my eyes, but all I could muster was a squint as I was bombarded with Sunday morning sunshine.
I wrestled within sleepy myself to find my voice "Ugh! I don't know!" How in the hell am I supposed to know anything at this early hour?
Doc H was already fumbling down the hall to the kids bathroom. "Well, you need to fish it out!"
{Good Morning to you, too, my love. Sleep bully. Sleep bully. Sleep bully!}
{Good Morning to you, too, my love. Sleep bully. Sleep bully. Sleep bully!}
The door to the hall bath shuts (loudly).
{Hey, man! I'm trying to sleep! Don't you worry, I'll fish it out. I'll fish it out alright! I know exactly how I'll do it, too!}
Just then I hear the bathroom door open and Doc H yells, "And don't use my toothbrush, either!"
Darn!
Plan foiled.
Fine!
Where's his hairbrush?
Plan foiled.
Fine!
Where's his hairbrush?
Oh hells no. I have to say that all toilet-related matters are the man's job to deal with! Also, as a fellow health professional, Doc H deals with MUCH nastier stuff than a toilet and he can't deny it!
ReplyDeleteI've been very sleepy faced this summer, and The Lawyer has to get up to go to work and I don't have to leave the bed. There would be serious stink eye and guilting if he made me get up to get my hairband (or my anything) out of the toilet!