Be careful what you promise yourself. When I moved away from Hildon Circle, where I ended up sharing one old bathroom with several male roommates, I stood on the front steps like Scarlet and swore, “As God is my witness, I’ll never share a bathroom again.” Fast forward about 10 years, and somehow there are two little boys around my ankles in the bathroom I do not share with my spouse. This resulted in a new wing of the house so I could have my own bathroom.
Today, 10 years after the addition, I spent the morning moving three males into that seat-down sanctuary. I was very nice about it — cleaned out a drawer for each of them, secreted away items of feminine hygiene they don’t want to see, made sure there are enough hooks for their towels… In fact, I’ve already bought the replacement toilet seat I will use when they move out and quit peeing on the old one.
Then I came back from a fundraiser to find two golf magazines on the back of the toilet. A striking reminder of what I’m facing these next few weeks as we go from 3 1/2 to 1 1/2 baths.
Tomorrow morning, the builders come to start tearing out the two nasty old bathrooms said males have been abluting in yea these many years. I suppose I should take “before” pictures, but I’d be embarrassed to share them, I think.