So mature...

I posted previously about my tiny bit of OCD when it comes to folding towels. Brit Boy read my post. He was less than amused. Well, he was slightly amused. Maybe. Possibly. I think there was a hint of a smile on his face when he told me where I could put my properly folded towels.

So in response to me basically saying that I didn't like the way he folded our towels, he responded in the most mature, well-reasoned, and thoughtful way anyone can.

By basically going "pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!!!!"

Is there any question as to why I love him so?

But it's only wafer thin!

Everyone has fears. Some are logical and totally understandable. Others are rather irrational and, well, silly. Mine falls into this latter category.

Sidewalk grates. I'm afraid of sidewalk grates. You know, those flimsy pieces of metal that cover deep chasms of underground tunnels, pipes, and all the creepy-crawly things that live down there. Those flimsy pieces of metal that could snap at any moment, plunging the passerby deep below the surface of the Earth. I shudder every time I even think about walking over one. So I don't. Walk over them, that is. I avoid them at all costs.

Last night, however, was my worst nightmare. There's a particular stretch of roadway in downtown Austin that due to the construction on the street and the sidewalk that connects to the pedestrian/cycling bridge, I was forced onto the sidewalk in front of City Hall for half a block. This half of the block, however, contains a 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates that I was forced to ride across as there were other people on the sidewalk. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates that threatened to buckled and fail as the tires of my bike rolled from one grate to the next. A 20-something foot expanse of sidewalk grates...

"Just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling..." I kept singing to myself. "What do we do, we pedal, we pedal... just keep pedaling..."

After what seemed like an eon... After what seemed like 600 miles of sidewalk grates... I finally got to the end and was able to make my way home. It took at least a mile or two for my apprehensiveness to subside.

Toweling Off

Brit Boy and I are entering our third month of cohabitation. All seems to be going swimmingly. We're goofy, silly, happy, cuddly, etc, etc. He's getting out and making friends and exploring Austin, and we seem to be settling in nicely. Except...

Towels. Now, there may not be too many things about which I am a stickler, but the way the towels in the linen closet are folded is one of them. I mean, when they're folded all nice and neat, it just looks so nice when you open the door to grab one. Well, apparently not everyone agrees with my philosophy.

I opened the linen closet the other day to grab a towel to take to the gym. This is what I found staring back at me.

Well, I just couldn't have any of this. Order had to be restored.

Much better, no?