This afternoon, in a routine inspection of the upstairs, I had the grave misfortune of wandering into my boys' bathroom.
One look around and it was clear I was viewing the aftermath of what happens when you combine a dreamer, a scientist, and a daredevil with unlimited access to water, toothpaste, and, umm, the product of various bodily functions.
Here is what I saw:
1 tub FULL of murky, sudsy water.
1 toilet FULL of...well, full. Let's leave it at that.
1 empty toilet paper roll tossed in the general direction of the trashcan.
1 counter streaked with toothpaste, calamine lotion, and wet strips of kleenx.
2 sinks creatively decorated in toothpaste, pencil shavings, and toys.
3 instances of clear evidence that the toilet paper ran out before the need for toilet paper was filled.
4 instances of clear evidence that while the perpetrator might have been aiming to spit his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, he missed. By a mile.
7 handprints of the filthy variety located on the lightswitch, the door, and the mirror.
19 pieces of paper located in the general area of the trashcan without actually being in the trashcan.
256 tiny legos inexplicably dumped over the ENTIRE bathroom floor.
And people wonder why I hear voices in my head and talk to myself. It's that or Prozac, people. Take your pick.