“Baby, I love you very much. But, I’m Moving Out… of the Bathroom.”
This is what I said to my boyfriend this morning. We just moved into this new house together. The moving in together thing seems to be going really well – at least from my perspective, and he has yet to voice any problems (so I will assume he is good until told otherwise). But there is still settling in to do. I am a nester. (No, this does not in any way have anything to with the “nesting instinct,” for those of you with minds that would go there – Paresh). I like my home. I have always liked to get settled into a place and get everything put away conveniently. I am a homebody at heart and will stay at home mostly above anything else. Not that I am a recluse or anything, I am just shy and more comfortable at home (yes, you read that right).
Anyway, the house we moved into has two bathrooms. One is outside the master bedroom in a vestibule where the bedrooms come off the hall. This one has a tub and is a bit bigger than the master bath. The masterbath is… small. Two normal sized people cannot fit into it (Jay, at 6’3″ is not normal sized). This morning I am drying my hair and thinking. My boyfriend has mentioned not liking how much stuff there is in the master bathroom. Not only has he mostly always had a bath to himself, but he is one of those guys who has one bar of soap, one bottle of shampoo, toothbrush, razor, shaving cream, deodorant and maybe a couple of other guy things that I am not sure what they are or what they do (and I don’t want to know, either). I, on the other hand, have: blow dryer, curling iron, 3 daily hair products, 2 kinds of face cream, eye make up remover, face wash, shaving lotion, razor, body lotion, 2 kinds of eye cream, electric toothbrush, cotton balls, q-tips – there is more, but I think I made my point.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the manliness of his simplicity. And I think he likes my girlieness – as long as I keep a reign on it and not get into chick flicks (or worse, try to make him watch them). So, this morning I thought he would be delighted when I told him that I would move all my girl crap out and use some of my paycheck this week to create the perfect bathroom for each of us. He had just commented on the dryer and curling iron as being electrocution hazards in such a small, wet bathroom, so I figure he would jump at the idea. He used it as the basis of a Facebook post (which is fine. I am using it as an essay subject).
Flash forward a few days. Bathroom is set up and is working nicely. I have managed to cut prep time in the mornings and find everything I need to be able to sleep as late as possible and still fit in everything that has to be done in the morning. (In my humble opinion, there are only two reasons for home improvements: beauty or convenience.) I have removed every girlie thing from the masterbath. I still owe him a Rubick’s cube and an Auburn pennant, but we now have separate boys’ and girls’ bathrooms at our house. “For marriage to be a success, every woman and every man should have her and his own bathroom. The end.” ~Catherine Zeta-Jones. I am starting to think she was on to something.
Originally written September 22, 2010