Let's start with this premise: After years of being outnumbered in the boys-to-girls department, I have finally reached the moment when the estrogen empire overwhelms the testosterone tribe in my own home.
My oldest two boys are long out of the house (as well they should be at ages 23 and 26!); my Z-man is currently edumacating himself in faraway collegeland.
That leaves J-bear, the Roo-girl, two girlie dogs and me. (All those fish and turtles don't count, so don't go there.)
And in the other corner: Wonderhubby.
Now, I must say, when it comes to putting the seat down, Wonderhubby must have been well-trained as a child. I never have to worry that I will FALL IN in the middle of the night. Plus, he has been gone all week, and the ambient estrogen level in our house is rising by the second.
So it was with the utmost confidence that I raced to the bathroom after I got home from work today. (Side note: What the hell? Why is it that I never go before I leave work so I am always running straight to the bathroom when I get in the door? Second side note: How come the Roo-girl DOES THE EXACT SAME THING when she gets home from school? Is this genetic or something??)
OK, I digress.
To bring us back to the issue, it was (again) with the utmost confidence that I raced to the bathroom after I got home from work today.
And promptly FELL IN.
Yes, the cleaning lady had been here today.
Betrayed by one of my own kind.