Him – (From inside the bathroom) – Why haven’t we got any hand towels?
Me – (On the landing) – What?
Him – Why haven’t we got any hand towels?
Me – I don’t know what you mean? We have got hand towels!
Him – What? I can’t hear you!
Me (Sticking my head around the door). We have got hand towels.
Him – There are no hand towels in the bathroom. There are never any hand towels in the bathroom! I can never dry my hands because there’s never any hand towels!
Me – Hmmm they must be in the wash because we do have some…. There’s that blue one…. I think that’s definitely in the wash. In fact I’m sure we’ve got more than one blue one… Somewhere……..
Him – I’m buying us some hand towels!!!
Me – Alright, if that’s what you want, but I’m positive we have some around here somewhere – are you sure there are none in here? (No, there are not).
– I was safe in the knowledge that this would never happen. It would be forgotten. It was another of the little things that are really annoying at the time but less so a few hours later. Above all, I had found a clean hand towel and put it in the bathroom – I was sure that this would be enough to halt the crusade for Egyptian cotton being embarked on by a sleep deprived Welsh man.
Two days later – I’m in the kitchen.
Him – (On return from Tesco) I’ve bought some towels
Me – (surprised) Oh ok – hand towels? We do have some here you know?
Him – Yes, yes I know but I thought we could do with some more.
Me – Fair dos, could probably do with throwing a couple of the old ones out.
Him – Yeah ok, this is what I have got.
– At this point he produces the following (it is worth pointing out that in our house there is us, a baby – who has her own towels with a variety of comedy hoods on – and part of the time Gareth’s daughter is also with us)
– 5 flannels – pale blue, 1 minions flannel that grows in the bath
– 4 hand towels: 3 striped, 1 pink
– 4 green towels (what I would call ‘normal size’)
– 5 bath sheets in a variety of colours – mainly blue
Me – (Looking at the plethora of towels). Right…. so where are these all going to go?
I both dreaded and knew the answer that was coming.
Him – The grey plastic basket?
So now we have, on the landing, the ex-clean-laundry-basket reincarnated as a clean-towel-basket.
I kick it daily. And swear at it when it occasionally, smugly trips me up.
NB: Writing this has reminded me of the time he went to Tesco to get some shopping and came back with 56 pieces of chicken:
10 breast fillets
12 breaded pieces
14 legs and thighs
8 ready made kebabs
12 tikka chicken lunch bites
No fish. No steak. No mince. No lamb. No pizza. No pasta. Just 56 pieces of chicken which we are still making our way through.
If you haven’t already read part one of the grey plastic basket saga #basketgate then you can find it here:
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