I could hear Corb growling from the bathroom, and knew he was mad at me for something. "What did I do now?" I asked, from my seat on the computer.
"Did you use my towel when you shaved your beard last night?" he yelled out.
Well, I hadn't really thought about which towel I was using. "Ummm...maybe?" I called back. "Why?"
"Why? Because it's gross! So now I just came out of the shower and I've got beard clippings all over...grrrr!"
I tried to ignore him, because I knew it was a losing battle.
"Dammit! I think I'm going to have to jump into the shower again!"
"Just use another towel," I called out.
"I will...after I hop in the shower!"
After a thirty minute sprinkle, he was at it again. "Let's see how you like it!" he called out. "I think I'll shit in your towel and let it dry all night. All caked in crap. Let's see how much you like that!"
Sigh. So dramatic...still, I suppose he has a point. Really, I never do think about the towel I use for my beard clippings. The only reason I put a towel over the sink is because he complains about the clippings in the sink, if I don't. I tell you, beauty is not an easy thing to achieve.
And it's not as though he doesn't have his quirks. Try finding use dental picks by the couch. See how much fun that is to pick up. Or, his stinky used socks, which he leaves everywhere. We all have our crosses to bear.
A few minutes later, as he was flipping through his favorite Cranberries songs on his iPhone, I called out, "I love you."
He paused a moment. "I love you, too."
I nodded and headed to the bathroom. Once there, I uncapped the mouthwash and started to pour a splosh out.
Corb watched me from where he was sitting, like a cat observing a bird. "And don't forget to rinse out the cap when you're done," he said.