Bathroom Boy

It is quite obvious to me that my bathroom has been taken over by a boy. One might argue that girls are ones to hog bathrooms, but not in this case. Suddenly, bags of bottles have shown up in the corner. My favorite soap given to me by visiting teachers that smells really good is dissolved in a matter of days. A shaver and its charger fill precious counter space. Mini slices of hair show up in the sink. My michemily towels are laid out on the potentially spidery floor, soggy. It seems that every moment that I could possibly think I might be ready to take a shower or brush my teeth or get some lotion, the bathroom boy suddenly appears out of nowhere and locks himself in, leaving me to other plans (such as chewing gum instead of brushing) as I flee from the river dance-type music. Hours later I come back to find the bathroom messy and wet.

Is this what it would be like with a husband?