Oh, how my husband is secretly trying to kill me, let me count the ways. Or maybe we should skip to the chase and talk about the irony of ass towels for common use. My husband is fastidious enough to wash the kids' bums when they poop - wipes aren't good enough for their lil tushes - yet fails to clue in that ass towels must be demoted from rack to hamper immediately. Or maybe he does know that, and it's all part of his evil plan to annihilate Boss #1 (that's me).
Not surprisingly, I haven't been well since the kids came on scene. For the first time in my life, I've been plagued with gut-wrenching stomach bug after stomach bug (and those bitches don't even give me mercy weight loss). At first, I blamed exhaustion and the resulting lowered immunity. It wasn't until I saw K leave a bio-hazardous bum rag on my towel rack that I put one and one together and went ape-shit crazy (remember, I am a major germ-phobe). Here is the plan I put in motion to foil Boss #2's plan (that's K if you're getting confused):
Final outcome: Ass towels go in the laundry hamper now... I think. Ok, let's get real, they're probably just thrown on the floor, but that's better than being left for someone to use.
If I croak before I wake - from E.Coli or staph poisoning, no doubt - you'll let the authorities know what happened, won't ya?
copied from my blog: http://www.nakedmommydiaries.com/2011/10/my-husband-is-secretly-try...