I seem to be fixated on my bathrooms lately.
Maybe it’s because when we painted, over a year ago, I removed everything from the walls, and have yet to put things back.
I’ve been taking my time picking out new bathroom hardware. In fact, I’m thinking of putting different towel bars and things in each room to create unique spaces.
What? Bathrooms can be interesting.
Anyway, my fixation for today is— Why do I have a big basket of magazines and art books in my hall bathroom?
I’m pretty sure most people don’t settle in and pick up a good read while they are in someone else’s home. I’m not even talking about the bathroom off of the guest bedroom. It might make sense to have something in there, but this ginormous basket is near the toilet and sink room meant for dinner guests.
I can’t emphasize enough how big this thing is. There is enough reading material in this basket for a long, overnight, maybe even a weekend sit.
At first, I thought maybe the basket had turned into a throw-all place, and that’s why it became so mammoth, but that’s not it. I remember reviewing this basket last year, taking things out and adding others.
It is clearly a conscious assortment of reading material. Some weird aren’t-we-interesting shrine for visitors.
In addition to the basket being way too big, I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to provide the most ostentatious collection of ridiculous ever.
There are no smutty magazines, gossip rags, fun crossword puzzles or trivia. No, if you come to my home one of the powder room selections is The Paris Review.
What the hell is that?
Even if a guest was inclined to cop-a-squat and hide out for a minute, The Paris Review is no fun. It’s hard enough to get through some of those stories with pants up and fastened.
The whole thing is absurd. This collection belongs next to a fancy box of tissues, and I’ve already made it clear how I feel about those.
The basket and its contents are off to the donation bin this afternoon.
Maybe I’ll put multiplication flashcards in the bathrooms or something totally out of character like Popular Mechanics or Iron Man Magazine.
I should probably go with nothing at all. It’s not like I want people hanging out in the bathroom when they come over anyway.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Storytime.