I am writing to you with a moist back. Not the usual "just got back from the gym and sweat through my sports bra and t-shirt" thing (I'm a back sweater...don't judge). Nope, just the daily case of leaning back in my home office chair onto a nasty, damp towel.
Why is there a wet towel on your office chair, you ask?
Maybe because no matter how many times I plead with the Mr. to puh-lease hang his towel behind the door, he insists on putting it on the back of my office chair.
In the interest of full disclosure I will note that the husband's closet is in my office/guestroom. It's not as if he prances into our bedroom all wet, dries off, gets dressed, then goes into my office to drop off his wet towel. We have a bit of a closet situation here, not unlike every other place we've lived. The closet in our bedroom is only big enough for one set of clothes (really, I'm not even being all bitchy wife about it, it's true. But I don't know why I got the privilege of keeping my clothes in the bedroom... anywho, its not about me, its about him.) So Cory was forced into the closet in what used to be the office. Then baby came along so the office was turned into a nursery and he had to move his shit into the guestroom turned office/guestroom closet. Which reminds me of when we lived in our apartment in the city and he had one of those depressing portable closets. Poor guy. Wait, no sympathy for the devil, my back is still moist.
My next plan of attack is to set my alarm for 6 a.m., sneak out of the house, break into his office, and place a used, wet towel on his office chair. Let's see how he likes it.