Where's the Mailbox?

When I came home from a 4-day work trip to Chicago, I asked my husband if he had brought in the mail while I was gone. He looked at me sheepishly, partly knowing his blunder would end up on this here blog and admitted he had not.

When I opened up the mailbox all this came spilling out.

Thank God You Are Back In Town

From Amy in Maryland. Those beer bottles were not gonna just walk themselves to the recycling bin.

Toilet Paper

My husband has this habit of getting so close to replacing the roll of toilet paper. But, almost without fail, he can't quite get the new roll on there. And the thing is, there's never enough toilet paper left on what he leaves behind to justify not just replacing it himself!

There's Only One Coffee Drinker in this House...

...and it's not me!

Wash cloths

Often times, once I wake up and long after my husband has left for the day to be the wonderful, caring school teacher he is...I'll come into the bathroom and be greeted with an obnoxious sopping wet wash cloth that he has used and taken off of the bathtub floor and plopped onto the counter to just sit and get water all over the place.

Like this morning.


He also likes to just take his gently used wet wash cloths and place them on top of his dry towel as well.