Bathroom dangers

Toast

A few days ago was the anniversary of the first kiss with The Theatre Producer, which means those nine sambucas I bought turned out to actually be a pretty sound investment. We’re still living together in what could be best described as ‘annoyingly happy’. I even I find us faintly hard to deal with.

Here is what I’ve learned about living together so far.

• We both have too many shoes. Between us we have shoes for five people. Five people who have a lot of shoes.
• According to TP if I’d mentioned I’d make breakfast every morning (poached eggs) she would have asked me to move in ages ago.
• We will never reach an accord over the correct way to set up a computer game controller (I know that inverting the y-axis is an abomination, she doesn’t understand).
• TP has the best washing machine ever. It’s like using a space computer. The dishwasher still scares me, but I’m working through that slowly.
• I’m not ready for the TV show Girls, I can appreciate it’s very good it’s just not for me. When TP watches it I put on Adventure Time or draw pictures of dinosaurs.
• Girls have lots of strange products in the bathroom. MEN FOLK DO NOT TOUCH. I have a ‘friend’ who tried using a moisturiser for the first time and he ended up brown because he didn’t read it had a tanning agent in it.
• That ‘friend’ also got in trouble for turning the pillows brown while he slept
• And he looked very stupid
• Tanning stuff should have warnings on it. In Big Letters.

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