This morning I let the dogs out and while they were out, I went to go pee. Then I washed my hands, and I've been trying to get in the habit of putting lotion on my hands afterwards, so my hands don't look like that of a crypt keeper. So I'm rubbing lotion on my hands and I got a little more than I had intended. And Arden starts talking to me from the other side of the door. I try to come out to talk to her, and I can't get the door open because my hands are too lotiony. So I quickly try to rub it in more, and try the door again. Nope, still too lotiony. Now, Arden is on the other side of the door hearing me try to open the door multiple times. I need to find new places for the lotion, so I start rubbing my elbows and my forearms. I try the door knob again, and it might have been okay, except I'd already smeared lotion on it twice. So I still can't open the door. Arden has now heard me try to open the door three times, so she says, "Are you stuck in there or something?".
By now I'm laughing hysterically because I'm trapped in the bathroom, and the door isn't even locked. And I'm rubbing the lotion on my neck and my face and my belly (it didn't occur to me that I could have used a towel), and trying the door again.
I should point out that at no time in this conversation did Arden try to help me out and open the door for me. She just kept talking.
I finally got the door open. I'm greasy head to toe, and laughing at the whole thing and Arden says, "Are you drunk?!"
It's 8am!!!
And she thinks I'm drunk. Which is really, really funny. And kicks off renewed laughter.
They've been worried about me for a while now, but I'm sure they will be planning an intervention after this.
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