War of the Roses

We have little silent battles at our house.

Remember Bill the minimalist?  If he does not like some nick knack that I have, he will simply put it away.  After a day or a few, I will notice it missing, and start the hunt. Upon finding said object, I will place it out again in its proper place, Bill will see it and start the whole process over again.

These little silent exchanges go on forever at times, some lasting months, until it happens when I am on my period someone finally cracks or the object literally disappears.

Bill and I have our own sinks for the first time in our married life.  We have so much bathroom space it feels sinful. I never knew that loving a bathroom was possible.  In our old house, the one bathroom was a place to get in and out of as fast as you could so the next person, who could be all of 3, wouldn’t pee on the hardwood floors outside the door. Now, I have my own space.  I can take a long, hot bath uninterrupted (the genius of locks on doors that do not require a skeleton key that was lost around the turn of the century…boggles the mind), and can hide from the kids sit in my carpeted walk in closet and read a magazine in peace.  Yes, I am that weird.

As you know, I decorated our bedroom/bath with ocean decor….seashells, coral, etc.  On each sink, I have a little shell filled with seashell soap, some red coral, seashells and hand soap.  It drives my husband up the wall. Stuff! On his side of the sink! A place that must be bare so that he can wipe it down without having to move stuff around.

Almost every morning, the little soap dish on Bill’s side is moved somewhere in the bathroom, and his coral is relocated to the garden tub.  When I discover it, I move it back. This has been going on now since September.  We never say a word to each other.  Little, silent, playful battles.

Saturday morning, I woke up to this:

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Which side do you suppose is mine?