Am I Living in Fight Club?

I love the boy. And because I love the boy (and he loves me), we try not to fuss at each other too much.

**This does not mean that we don't fuss over each other or fuss on one another like we'd fuss on a kitty, but our goal is to avoid raising a fuss over small petty things.

These small petty things include how the dishwasher is loaded, whether or not receipts are promptly placed in the receipt envelope and if small bits of toothpaste get thoroughly washed out of the bathroom sink.

But one small petty thing that has been driving me nuts lately is the boy's inability to put the Listerene bottle in its proper spot.

The proper spot is against the backsplash, by the mirror, next to the toothbrush holder. The not-proper spot is in the middle of the counter, next to the sink or anywhere other than against the backsplash, by the mirror, next to the toothbrush holder.

I was thinking about this irritation while brushing my teeth the other night. As I grabbed my toothbrush, I noticed that the Listerene was where it ought to be.

It's about time, I thought.

I brushed, flossed and used Listerene. Before leaving the bathroom, I glanced at the counter and noticed something very interesting:

I guess it's a good thing I hadn't fussed at the boy about the Listerene! This may have been the behavior of my evil secret personality all along.