Too Much Perfection?

Sometime this weekend half of a Bounce dryer sheet migrated into our shower. I'd be willing to wager that it hitched a ride on the back of one of the towels that gets unceremoniously slung over the shower door. No matter how it found its way into the floor of the shower, it has been there for nearly a week.

One might think that I, being the dutiful wifey that I am, would have picked it up by now. However, if you think that, you obviously do not know me well. Oh no, I have spent my hour-long showers each night pretending not to see this little vermin looking thing that was sopping wet by the time the hour was up and the water had grown cold.

I have surreptitiously avoided the thing in hopes that dear ole DH would finally cave and slog the nasty thing to the trash can. A girl can dream, right? Not surprisingly, though, that has not happened.

Fast forward to yesterday evening when the wutz and I showered together...

He looked down and his eagle eyes zeroed in on the abandoned Bounce sheet. Immediately, he swooped down upon it, gripping his prey in his little talon and holding it up like he'd found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

"What's that?" he asked in his inquisitive little voice.

"Trash." I replied.

"Oh." he said as the little cogs in his brain began to work. Then he nodded sagely.

"White trash." he declared.





Yes, little grasshopper, you may never know just how right you are.









Seriously.