Let me set the scene: our bathroom is very very small. It is so small that you can, I know from experience, wash your hands while sitting on the toilet. Because it is so small, we always shower with the door wide open, because if you close it you’re going to be growing exotic mushrooms in there by the time you’ve conditioned your hair, and then we step out, dry off, and get dressed in the hallway.
Our house is small. It is so small that the bathroom is no more than 10 paces to the front door, around a corner. If the front door is open while you are in the bathroom, in winter, you might as well be standing on the front porch for all you are protected from the cold and wind.
So it is an enduring mystery why, just about every single day that my husband is home at the time I am showering, he suddenly feels the urge to do something outside at the exact moment that I am stepping out of the shower, cold, wet, and naked.
Yesterday I actually thwarted his evil plan to kill me via hypothermia, when I was stepping out of the shower, cold, wet, and naked, and I heard Miles ask Mike to go play, and then I heard Mike reply, “Just a minute buddy, I’m going to take this garbage out.”
“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I screamed from the bathroom just in time. I thought for a moment he was just riffing on what’s become a running joke between us, but he was standing there in all seriousness with a garbage bag in his hand ready to do it AGAIN. WHY? WHYYYY?
He claims he can’t explain it and I sure as hell can’t explain it. I could be showering first thing in the morning or in the middle of the day, it doesn’t matter. Something about the water shutting off in the shower triggers some Pavlovian urge in my husband to frost my cookies off.
There must be a way to reprogram him to automatically start folding laundry or mopping the floor instead. Let me know if you’ve found it.