The Towel

I was quietly minding my own business when I heard it. It was the dreaded “Suuuuuuuussssssssssssssssieeeeeeeeeee”.   Shaun was once again bellowing for me to rescue him.  I just shook my head, sighed and chose to ignore him.  Of course, this was a futile move because he just got louder and more pathetic. After a few minutes of this I finally decided to have pity on the neighbors (and myself) and went to get him a towel.

We seem to have this thing about towels.  Well, he has this thing about towels. My usually brillant husband never seems to notice that they are missing from the towel rack until he is done with his shower and standing there shivering.  This bothers me on two levels.  First of all, I can’t quite figure out where the towels go.  They are supposed to be carefully folded back on the towel rack after each use.  They don’t seem to be on the floor or in the hamper…they are just gone.  And secondly, much more frustrating to me, I don’t understand why he doesn’t take a quick glance to make sure there is a fresh towel on the rack before he steps into the shower.  How hard could that be.

I’m not one hundred percent positive, but I’m pretty sure that he does it on purpose…just to get my goat.  One of these day I’ll distribute ear plugs around the neighborhood and we’ll all just ignore the desperate pleas for a fresh towel.  That’ll fix him!
 

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