Here’s a First-World problem for you. Maybe the Ultimate First-World problem, and I’m embarrassed that it rose into my mind.
I plopped a new purple chemically tablet into the tank of the girls’ toilet this morning before going into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I waited for the tablet to dissolve and flushed the toilet. Lifting the lid, I saw it did and that the water was light purple and smelled lavendery, as advertised. A Four Star review!
I sipped on my coffee, slowly, and stared at the water, unsure that the light purple of the toilet water matched the blue of the tile below, on the floor. I wondered for a minute, G letting me tie my own noose.
“Really,” He said? “That’s what you wonder about? The color of the poop water? Here’s what I wonder about except that I don’t really wonder: are detainees in Guantanamo going to be given COVID vaccines? Are all the children in your town going to be fed this week? Are you doing anything with the second cloak you have having in the closet? Or the third or eleventh?”
I was saved by my wife. Again. “Have you read the label for those things? Can the animals drink that stuff? You know that this is their private spa?”
So I got it out and, let me tell you, those tablets, once in the water, don’t exactly come out. I had to fish out every piece, and each one broke when I grabbed it. By the time I was done, the toilet, the floor, my pants, and my arms were soaked with purple toilet water.
And G had a hearty, knowing, chuckle.