TBID was visiting recently when nature called. He’d been working on some computer stuff with me and would need to take a bathroom break. The long kind.
He grabbed his laptop and walked to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I realized I needed something in there.
“Hey!” I called. “Are you already busy?”
I got up and walked down the hall. The door was cracked open. I wasn’t ready for this next step in the relationship, but I gritted my teeth and pushed open the door anyway.
A sigh of relief. TBID was fully clothed and rearranging some furniture. That’s not a metaphor for his wondrously efficient digestive tract. He’d literally brought in my tiny bedroom table, usually holding a pile of library books, and had set up a home office.
The lengths he’d go to take the most productive crap ever warmed my heart. It’ll have to go down in the books as one of the weirdest, stinkiest times I ever loved something about him so much that it could make me smile at strangers days later.
Of course, I won’t be able to resist leaving random office supplies in the bathroom next time he comes over.
“Let me know if you need the stapler!” I’ll yell. “Do you have some tape I can use?”
