Deux DUH! moments dans le Salle de Bain. . . .

I had just taken a nice, relaxing shower, had gotten all dried off, and applied the requisite personal grooming products. In preparation for a quick rummage through the wardrobe, I put on my glasses. As usual, the lenses were covered with water spots, dust, fingerprints and the odd kitty nose print. I was going to rinse them off under the tap and then dry them several times on several different places of the hand towel in order to get all the smears and water off, but then I realized the bath towel was still damp from drying off my freshly bathed body, and used that instead. Took a third of the time and did a much better job. . . . . DUH! . . .

When I shower, I almost invariably wash me from hair to toes. However, this one particular time, I had just accepted a spur of the moment supper invitation, and I didn't have several hours to let my hair evaporate dry. Since the relative humidity was crouching in the low 20's, I wasn't going use the blow dryer and play Frizz-Crackle-Pop Hair Crispies for a week simply because I refuse to glob "styling products" on my nice clean hair. So, I twisted up my hair and secured it with a big grabbie clip, rummaged around in the whatnot drawer and dredged up my shower cap. Since I have no exhaust vent in my bathroom (except the vent grills I put in the door myself), I use that spray shower cleaner stuff, which not only keeps the mold and mildew at bay (both of which I'm allergic to), but also cleans the soap scum off the shower stall. I use the kind in the refillable trigger spray bottle. (I was going to fork over $20+ bucks for that convenient, automatic time-delay sprayer gizmo you hang from the shower head until I realized it was specially designed to conveniently spray on way too much "product" each time you use it, plus it uses batteries.) And since I can rarely find the unscented kind two times running at Wal-Mart, I drape my bath towel over my head in a biblical fashion and hold a corner of it across my nose like the dance of the 7 veils to keep the FRESH LEMON SCENT from gang-raping my sinuses. So now I'm standing on the bath mat, reaching up for the towel that's still draped over my head, and it occurs to me, "Dry off the shower cap while it's still on your head. . . DUH! . . . "