Man in the Can

My husband is cleaning his bathroom.  By "his" bathroom, I am referring to the bathroom he shares with our 14 year old son.  This is also the bathroom that was damaged in many costly ways by our four dogs....but alas, that is a story for a different day.

I should mention that this is a bathroom I will only step foot in if I have a surplus of clean towels, and need to take advantage of the large linen closet that only the scary bathroom possesses.  And I will never enter without wearing shoes. Ever.  If he is voluntarily cleaning it....it must be really bad.

The reason it is so gross has nothing to do with the room itself.  It is actually quite lovely in there.  Or it was.  Since the boys moved in, the toilet gets a scrub once every six months (if it's lucky).  There is no need for a garbage can of any sort, because all of the whisker clippings from shaving and goatee trimming simply just stay right there on the counter, or in the sink.  It is interesting how hair eventually shellacks itself to the sink after several weeks.  But, the icing on the cake this evening was when my beloved presented me with his bath mat.  The once fluffy, white towel/mat/rug thingy that made stepping out of the shower not just an event, but a celebration, had obviously been subjected to a life of misery and torture.  He held it before me in it's now brownish, yellowish, I-have-no-idea-what-that-color-is-state of moldy, flattened despair, and said, "So, is it worth trying to wash this thing?"  I paused, and I took a moment to ponder where I had gone wrong in the past 19 years of man-training that I had worked so hard at.  "Typically, darling," I said with sincerity almost oozing from my pores....almost. "Typically these mats are thrown in the wash with the towels."  I thought for another moment, and realized that he never threw his towels in the wash either....if I didn't grab them, he would attempt to use them until they could stand on their own.  It was time to get specific. "Once a week is a good goal."  He looked a little confused and said, "Oh. Well this is how I did it in college, so I wasn't sure."   Yes....I can see how one wouldn't be sure.  Suddenly, visions of his college bed sheets came flooding through my memory.  And those socks.  And the ONE kitchen towel....that I am pretty sure he used for at least two years.  I suddenly have an urge to do laundry.