Shared bathrooms...
I'm against it!
It was muggy here last night so I didn't sleep well, and the gentle snoring of the paramour didn't help much either. I pinched him, poked him, and eventually held his nose closed until he turned over-and then I discovered he can snore on his side.
Because I was awake of course I needed to go to the bathroom. So-muttering darkly about snoring folk - I trundled off to the bathroom and promptly fell down the toilet.
'Arrrghh!'
I managed to wiggle my way free. I stomped back into the bedroom and snapped the light on. 'Put the bloody seat down!'
'What what?' He replied blearily sitting up. 'What's going on?'
'The toilet seat paramour, you-just put it down. Or use the other bathroom, why don't you?'
'Bathroom?'
'Aw forget it.'
No point shouting at a man in the middle of the night. And within minutes the room was filled with the not at all infuriating sound of deep rummbly snores.
GAH. I made my way to the sitting room and sat at my desk for a while, thinking sulking, thulking.
I blame boarding school (for so many things). I was soured by boarding school, the horror of sharing a bathroom with fifty other girls-if you were lucky to be on that floor- has caused my very real dslike of sharing a bathroom. Years of picking clumps of hair out of the drain, hoping to God pee-pee paula hit the spot, wondering why that girl from Carlow kept stealing the toilet paper and discovering there wasn't even the faintest dribble of hot water left to rinse the stinging shampoo from my hair, has completely scuppered my views on shared bathrooms. Peraps my many years 'abroad' also added to my toilet whimsy. Toilets, I mean they're personal aren't they? Either way, I cannot stand sharing a bathroom with another person, even the paramour. I have two bathrooms here, mine, and the guest. Mine is attached to my room. The other is across the hall. Both have a shower, a toilet and bidet, although mine also has a bath. Now, before anyone accuses me of being a Polly Pissy Pants, I should point out that I'm not all weird about sharing, but I don't really see the point if you don't have to.
It all makes perfect sense.
Eg. I take a while to get ready to go out, there are primpings, some preenings, hair removal, tweezings, buffing, moisturing, drying, hair stuff, make up stuff, more hair stuff...it takes a while.
He, on the other hand, has a shower, a shave, sprays deodorant, slaps on aftershave and voila, he's hot to trot. Naturally it makes sense that he might like the use of the other bathroom to, you know, do his thing.
He doesn't hang the damp towels on the towel rails, he flings them over the shower rail. I don't know why he does this. I don't know why it annoys me.
But it does.
So, shared bathrooms, I'm against it. Now I just have to convince the paramour that he wants to use the other bathroom and that it's got nothing to do with me at all.
Oh and Puddy's on the operating table right about now. All her blood work came back normal. She's in good shape, so hopefully all will go well and I'll get her back this afternoon. I wonder will they put one of those funnel things on her head. I hope so, that will scare the pants of the bigger of the cats.
It was muggy here last night so I didn't sleep well, and the gentle snoring of the paramour didn't help much either. I pinched him, poked him, and eventually held his nose closed until he turned over-and then I discovered he can snore on his side.
Because I was awake of course I needed to go to the bathroom. So-muttering darkly about snoring folk - I trundled off to the bathroom and promptly fell down the toilet.
'Arrrghh!'
I managed to wiggle my way free. I stomped back into the bedroom and snapped the light on. 'Put the bloody seat down!'
'What what?' He replied blearily sitting up. 'What's going on?'
'The toilet seat paramour, you-just put it down. Or use the other bathroom, why don't you?'
'Bathroom?'
'Aw forget it.'
No point shouting at a man in the middle of the night. And within minutes the room was filled with the not at all infuriating sound of deep rummbly snores.
GAH. I made my way to the sitting room and sat at my desk for a while, thinking sulking, thulking.
I blame boarding school (for so many things). I was soured by boarding school, the horror of sharing a bathroom with fifty other girls-if you were lucky to be on that floor- has caused my very real dslike of sharing a bathroom. Years of picking clumps of hair out of the drain, hoping to God pee-pee paula hit the spot, wondering why that girl from Carlow kept stealing the toilet paper and discovering there wasn't even the faintest dribble of hot water left to rinse the stinging shampoo from my hair, has completely scuppered my views on shared bathrooms. Peraps my many years 'abroad' also added to my toilet whimsy. Toilets, I mean they're personal aren't they? Either way, I cannot stand sharing a bathroom with another person, even the paramour. I have two bathrooms here, mine, and the guest. Mine is attached to my room. The other is across the hall. Both have a shower, a toilet and bidet, although mine also has a bath. Now, before anyone accuses me of being a Polly Pissy Pants, I should point out that I'm not all weird about sharing, but I don't really see the point if you don't have to.
It all makes perfect sense.
Eg. I take a while to get ready to go out, there are primpings, some preenings, hair removal, tweezings, buffing, moisturing, drying, hair stuff, make up stuff, more hair stuff...it takes a while.
He, on the other hand, has a shower, a shave, sprays deodorant, slaps on aftershave and voila, he's hot to trot. Naturally it makes sense that he might like the use of the other bathroom to, you know, do his thing.
He doesn't hang the damp towels on the towel rails, he flings them over the shower rail. I don't know why he does this. I don't know why it annoys me.
But it does.
So, shared bathrooms, I'm against it. Now I just have to convince the paramour that he wants to use the other bathroom and that it's got nothing to do with me at all.
Oh and Puddy's on the operating table right about now. All her blood work came back normal. She's in good shape, so hopefully all will go well and I'll get her back this afternoon. I wonder will they put one of those funnel things on her head. I hope so, that will scare the pants of the bigger of the cats.
posted by fatmammycat at 5:30 a.m.
11 Comments:
My own Paramour and I have been together for 24 years of wedded bliss(cough) all because we have NEVER shared a bathroom. I highly recommend it. Maybe if you put something he really likes or enjoys in the other bathroom, he'll use it?
There are nights I've had to remove myself from the marital chamber and make my lonely way to the guest room. On account of the Abominable Snore-Man. Yesterday we were married for 7 years. My great-auntie was married 47 years to a man, who by the time he died had made her deaf in one ear with tinnitus in the other. I know that's anecdotal, but I fear for my own ears. Already polka music is sounding more tolerable to me. The higher whinings of the accordion fail to register any more. Don't ask me why I had to listen to polka music, recently. I'm serious - don't.
Godspeed to puddy, poor wee thing.
Men go through life under the illusion they are living in a five star hotel. Ergo, someone else will pick up the towels, shine their shoes, clean the bog ... etc. etc. Separate bathrooms is an absolute minimum for a successful partnership in my experience. Separate bedrooms on occasion helps. Separate houses is even better, and separate countries, or even continents, is the ideal to aim for, until developments in space travel improve.
Daphne, welcome. Separate houses, I like your thinking. I too have very strong leanings toward the twin homes. Especially now that I notice the paramour likes to leave his underwear in the bidet and claims he 'needs' all the bits of paper he collects willy nilly. Why anyone would 'need' a supermarket bill from three weeks before is an odd one to me.
I am just back from picking puddy up from the vets. I am 500 Euros lighter and puddy is wearing a funnel which-as I predicted- has sent the other two eegits into spasams of terror. I'm waiting for the result of a biopsy to see if the three growths they removed are a certain type of cancer. Puddy, despite her grogginess managed to eat her own bodyweight in food the moment she returned. I on the other hand am drinking a barcardi and orange while I re-read the bill is awe. Frankly I doubt I will be able to afford to eat again.
Congrats to all the married on this here site, 24 years Bonnie! Huzzah, and Miss Sam a very happy 7th to you.
reading Material reading material reading material. That is the secret to getting any man to use the other bathroom. failing that a portable TV and fridge. I know it sounds disgusting but who has not had a glass of wine in the bath or a cup of tea on the john
You're right. Shared bathrooms are a terrible idea. Although I must confess I am one of the lucky ones. I snagged a paramour who was trained /screamed at my his mother so that he neither pees on the floor nor leaves the seat up.
A nice large framed nude on the wall opposite the loo in your second bathroom should do the trick...of course then you might have the problem of getting him out....
A shelf of football quote books withing eacy reach and plenty of soft tissue paper, piece and quiet and many boxes of matches-I asked. Apparently thats all it takes. Oh and MacDara he reckons tea on the bog is not a good idea at all, supposing you scald your balls?
Well, he would say that, wouldn't he! He might have a different answer if you were the framed nude on the wall! Wearing just your Manolos, of course.
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