The Bathroom Zone

For those of you who suspect this post of being filled with crass bathroom humor, ease your fears now. Nothing stinks more than hackneyed prose. It is an unusual discovery that brings us to this Bathroom Zone entry. Herein lies the tale:

At this very moment, the clock in our bathroom reads 9:22 am. Do you see where I am going? Well, perhaps it would help to know that every other clock in this hemisphere reads 10:22 am. Now you see. Our bathroom has its own time zone.

This explains a lot.

You may be unaware of the five minute shower. It is the requirement at the Lynch home when various residents here wait for the morning to take their shower, thus endangering a timely departure for family morning activities. However, this "five minute shower" takes approximately 25 minutes when my 14 year old daughter enters the Bathroom Zone. This is no quirk. The same twisting of time occurs when my 15 year old son asks to invest a moment combing his hair. The Zone again exercises its influence and a simple glance in the mirror leads to 20 minutes of facial exploration.

I have searched for clues to these aberrations but no clear answer is forthcoming. The phenomenon of the bathroom clock being the only time piece in our home to remain 1 hour behind the others is the most significant. But there are other signs. Take the ring in the bathtub. One is reminded of mysterious crop circles in corn fields. And observe the toothpaste tubes. Ignore that fact that the caps are all missing (if you can). Each tube has been dented in at the middle! Once, and I know this might be frightening, I entered the bathroom to find every towel hung up on a rack.

There is more, but if I were to mention the mold in the shape of Elvis, the unexplainable empty toilet paper roll, the sudden entrance of small children without knocking you would pull your hair out.

And that would not be good, because the waste basket is full.