not that, you pervs.
i had a dream the other night that ej had asked both b and i what annoyed us about the other person while we were at a slumber party in the farmhouse in which my grandmother used to live with her second husband before he died. obviously.
anyway, his answer was that i could be vindictive and manipulative (what? moi?) and my answer was that i hate it when we go shopping and he has to use the bathroom and then we have to drive all the way home because he needs to be at his home base.
i'm not sure how common this phenomenon is with men. maybe all men hate public restrooms. maybe men's rooms are even more disgusting than i imagine they must be. but the fact is ... i was never exposed to this particular phobia - the phobia of having to sit one's bare ass on a toilet used by strangers - before marrying b. i've never seen a person abandon an entire cart of stellar buys at marshalls or tjmaxx because, well, it was just time to go. even for an accused germaphob like me, the idea of sharing some porcelain with strangers is just a fact of life. i make do, as it were.
but b, no no. he'll have no such thing if there's anyway around it. if that means aborting a shopping trip suddenly, that's what it means. if it means our morning sitting at starbucks reading the newspaper is cut short, well, c'est la vie.
i guess it doesn't matter anyway. after this week, i don't think he's ever going into a public restroom again.