It’s always been a mystery to me, why men can’t seem to hit the toilet 100% of the time, but I think I have new insight.
My husband Mike went into our basement bathroom last night while I was sitting outside on the patio. It seemed to be taking a while, so I looked through the glass sliding door and saw him inside in the frame of the open bathroom door, on his hands and knees.
Hm. I know he doesn’t always stand when he goes, but on his hands and knees seemed like an impossible feat.
He came outside a little while later and I asked him why he’d been in the bathroom on his hands and knees.
Turns out he’d been standing, going, when he noticed one of those fuzzy centipede things crawling toward his foot. He shifted his foot (splash!) and the centipede also shifted direction to continue heading for his foot. He shifted his foot again (splash!) but the centipede seemed determined to touch him. So he generally freaked out (splash! splash! splash! splash!) jumping and leaping to escape the relentless centipede, painting the walls and floor as he went.
He was on his hands and knees cleaning it up.
Stepping on the bug had of course not been an option. I am happy to report that after the fact, grabbing it in a tissue was.
In other, other news, I’ve re-covered my urban fantasy novels Angeli and Cherubim in anticipation for the third (so far unnamed) book in an attempt to give the trilogy a consistent look. Covers done by the infinitely talented Steven Novak (who I highly recommend, he’s lovely to work with) and I love them! I’m on chapter twenty-three of book three so that should be out in August (I hope!)