My wife and I are in the middle of WWIII. The bottom line is: she told me that if I throw one more towel on the floor after my shower — I'm dead. She's sick of a husband who holds the Guinness record as a world class slob, she said, who generates enough wash to keep a laundry in business. This could be amusing to some, but trust me, my wife isn't laughing. I can go to the local YMCA or shower three times with one towel, she suggested.
Look, I like coming home every night with dinner on the table waiting for me — I need to solve this. We have a fan in the bathroom. Suppose I kept the towel off the floor and hung it on the towel bar to dry overnight — would that work? Unhappily, my towel bar is only 24" wide while my towel is 27" wide. I'd have to fold it to make it fit — would it still dry? When I volunteered this observation to my wife, she wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, raised an imaginary violin to her shoulder, and played an imaginary dirge with an imaginary bow.
How am I going to fix this?
Look, I like coming home every night with dinner on the table waiting for me — I need to solve this. We have a fan in the bathroom. Suppose I kept the towel off the floor and hung it on the towel bar to dry overnight — would that work? Unhappily, my towel bar is only 24" wide while my towel is 27" wide. I'd have to fold it to make it fit — would it still dry? When I volunteered this observation to my wife, she wiped an imaginary tear from her eye, raised an imaginary violin to her shoulder, and played an imaginary dirge with an imaginary bow.
How am I going to fix this?
Little about a lot and a lot about a little.
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