This one’s gross and will remain under a jump.
why the hell do I only have to go to the bathroom when Amber’s already in there? It’s like my body knows exactly when the optimal time is to ruin a relaxing hot shower with a gross messy stinky dump. She never believes me that I really wait until the last possible second to ask if I can come in, but damn it, I’ve really got to go to the bathroom right about now.
We’ve got friends that have a toilet in their basement. It was there when they moved it. Just a toilet in a closet. It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.
The next place I live will certainly have more than one bathroom.