Monday, November 17, 2008

TP




It’s late at night, just before bed. In the half bathroom, Scott stands beside me, with his back turned, peeing. He hates when I interfere with his urinating, but I reach beside him to grab a bit of toilet paper. When I pull at the paper, the roll unravels. So I tug one last time to tear it, but the entire roll jumps up and drops into the toilet, splashing our socked feat with pee water.

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