Proving, as ever, that we at least attempt to be the perfect houseguests, my beloved and I had the following conversation on Sunday Morning at the lovely house in which we had stayed the night before:
– You were a while.
– I was in the toilet.
– Well, yes. Anyway. And I got a bit paranoid, in case everyone was going in there before we left the house, so I wanted to spray some air freshener. Or something. In case there was someone just waiting to come in.
– So I picked up a can from beside the sink, because it looked like deodorant
– …And it wasnt deodorant. It was shaving gel. And it came out in a long, aerial blue stream, all the way across the bathroom.
– Oh. Um…
Only the first 5% of the time upstairs, it transpired, had been toilet time. The rest had been spent cleaning shaving foam off the toilet lid. And the tiles. And the wall.
Ladies and gentlemen: check the label before you push the button.