Mid-Slumber Plunge

So I fell in the toilet last night this morning. At 2 a.m. to be exact. Really no other way to say it but I do, however, have plenty more I'd like to say about it. Just like every other night, I got up to use the potty in our master bath. It's annoying that I still even have to do this - stretched skin AND bladder courtesy of child bearing. Awesome. Anyway, because I do this every night, I have mastered the art of going without ever opening my eyes. And because we have a 'sitting only' rule in our house for ALL males {because NONE of them can hit a large, round target}, I didn't even think to check and make sure the seat is down. Especially in my bathroom, where the only other person using it is another adult. I will now. I believe the first thought that came to mind {after clean up, of course}....well, I won't share that but it did involve a pillow. And oxygen deprivation. Fortunately {for him}, I calmed down and got back into bed without so much as disturbing my sweet husband. I layed there and stewed on how disgusting I felt, especially when I tried to recollect the last time I had actually cleaned that particular toilet. You see, I am on no sort of rotation - it gets cleaned when I see more black than white in the bowl. And to think I sat in it. Double-ick. So rather than going back to sleep and fluffing it off, what did I do? What any other crazy normal wife would do. I went and put the seat back just the way I found it. That's what we're taught as children, right? To leave things the way we found them? Surely he would need to go, too. Didn't he drink a lot of water before bed? So what if I layed there {for an hour} hoping to be awake for the moment of retribution. I just sat in toilet water {and who knows what else was on the rim}. I was entitled on every level.

He denied the whole thing this morning. Even laughed and said he wished he had been awake for it. I don't believe he really means that.