A Haunting in Georgia (more specifically my bathroom)

Mr. Yoy and I have finally come to terms with the fact that we will probably be living in our house until the end of time.  The Atlanta housing market's abysmal performance is second only to Detroit.  Not great company to keep, I know.

We are looking to spruce up the Yoy house after six years here.  I think Mr. Yoy is just sick of hearing me complain about things, but whatever gets the job done.

Tonight I was in the shower.  The hot water was beating down on my shoulders.  I was unwinding from another day of Yoyser madness.  This was my daily moment of relaxation.

My eyes scanned the bathroom.  I was dreaming of all the things I would rip out of my cheesy, builder grade bathroom.  My mind wandered.


I jumped and let out a small scream.

I turned around and there was Big E.  With his pants around his ankles.  Big E has mastered most things about potty training, he can name, by species, most trees in our front yard, but for whatever reason, he can't pull up his pants after he uses the restroom.

I wasn't expecting a visit from Big E.  Lately, he's been pretty good about staying in bed when I tuck him in.  I guess I had become complacent.

Once my heart started fully functioning again, I asked Big E what he was doing.


Ok, Mr. Creepy.

He stood at the shower door and peeked in at me.

So much for a relaxing shower.

I cut the water, grabbed my towel, and stepped out.


Well, how can I be mad at that?

I threw on my jammies and quickly ushered Big E back to his bedroom.

After a round of hugs and kisses I had him tucked back in.

That was 20 minutes ago.  Here's hoping it sticks.


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