With his permission, I’ve decided to dedicate a portion of my blog to Mr. Himself. He is such a funny person to live with that I can’t help writing about him. And since he doesn’t take himself seriously, he’s okay with being exposed in this way.
Mr. Himself lives at the mercy and whims of many others for various reasons. One of them is that he’s married to me. Being married to an author and scholar isn’t easy (I’m also a full-time college student at the moment). He has to do his own laundry these days, and has for a long time. I think he’s a tad bitter about that, but that’s another blog post.
He takes care of his mother who has Alzheimer’s and lives with us, and helps me with the twins (age 20) with autism in addition to being a full-time pastor. So, as you can imagine, there are very few things he has control over.
And that’s why, I believe, he tries to control weird things.
Like toilet paper.
Currently, there are six adults living in this house. The twins have a caregiver who comes for a portion of the day, so technically we have 6.5 people in this house using toilet paper. We go through a lot of it. Like maybe a roll or two a day. I don’t know because I’m too busy to keep track. Apparently he has time to because it’s driving him bonkers.
So, a few days ago, he decided toilet paper was something he would control.
We were each assigned our own roll of toilet paper with our names on it.
And we were not to use any else’s roll.
He was going to find out who ran out first. And he was rationing it. It had to last us at least a week, or ideally, two weeks.
Right. Like that’s going to happen.
There’s this funny thing about humans. We don’t like to be dominated. We don’t like to be told what to do. And we are competitive.
So instead of using my own precious roll of toilet paper, I sneak a few Kleenex in with me, or I swipe some off one of the boys’s rolls. Bad. I know. I’ve sinned over toilet paper. TOILET. PAPER.
Me: Honey, I’ve decided to feature you now and then on my blog. I’m giving you your own category. And I’m going to write about this toilet paper experiment of yours.
Mr. Himself: Why?
Me: Because you’re hilarious. I mean, you wrote our names on toilet paper. Think about it. WHO DOES THAT?
Mr. Himself (laughs with great satisfaction): It is pretty funny, isn’t it?
The experiment is failing. No one is using their own roll of toilet paper anymore. And besides, he’s gone to Michigan for a week to play his guitar and sing for a revival. There’s no way anyone is going to use their own roll with him gone.
Poor Mr. Himself. Once again, there’s something in his life he can’t control.
What do you think? Is Mr. Himself normal or weird? Leave me a comment!