So we had a lovely time together on John's week off. Then we got home. And we had a fight about toilet paper. Yes, toilet paper. It had to do with my disregard for others, because apparently I never grab a new roll from the other room when the roll is done. I am not deliberatley being mean-hearted, I'm just running to the washroom and back to the kids in the small windows of time that life allows me. And if I'm not running back to them, then there is a toddler in the bathroom with me trying to empty shampoo bottles, a baby on my lap, and a cat perched on that ledge trying to lick my face (or some combination therein).
So later that evening, I walked into the bathroom to find this scene. John's response: "situation resolved". I have yet to move it, because I get such a good laugh everytime I look at it. I'm playing with fire here, because the whole thing could topple on me while all other said chaos is happening around me. But it is worth it.
So later that evening, I walked into the bathroom to find this scene. John's response: "situation resolved". I have yet to move it, because I get such a good laugh everytime I look at it. I'm playing with fire here, because the whole thing could topple on me while all other said chaos is happening around me. But it is worth it.
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