I found an old scribble on my computer, written in March 2008.
The daily life of an emu, so to speak.
Me and my brother live together.
We are blissfully happy with this arrangement, where we keep separate households and steal from each other.
We tidy up at different times, and the result is a rather tidy and clean apartment.
All in all, we have little to complain about, other than the occasional lack of hot water.
This morning, as I was getting dressed after a refreshing shower, I picked up my t-shirt hanging on the laundry basket. I didn’t think very much about it, as it was hanging on the chair yesterday. I thought it might have been removed for some reason.
After work, we met at Gran’s for dinner, and started talking about plumbing, toilets and what goes down the drain; everything from ruined stews in the sink to diapers and rags in the toilet.
That’s when the penny dropped!
Yesterday, my dear brother had saved a beige t-shirt from the loo. It was a slight possibility that it had gotten there when he flapped around with a towel before or after his shower.
He didn’t understand how it got in there, but he was happy he flushed before the incident (yes, I promise, I am too!!)
He got it out, and put it in the laundry basket.
Or did he?
Well, I certainly didn’t think it looked like that when I put on the perfectly dry t-shirt this morning.
The horror! I’ve been wearing a bogshirt all day!!
And my brother. Do you think he pitied me?? *snort*
He was very similar to this:
I viciously attacked the piano, played my own version of Beethoven’s 5th, and named it “The Bogshirt Symphony”.
My interest in a thorough shower was above average
Note to self: remove everything I don’t want in the bowl!
How is this possible??