Kerplop

Having finished supper and our tv hour or two, Sue headed upstairs whilst I tended to Lacey's fourth meal of the day, each meal consisting of 1/4 of one of those small tins. She likes to eat, but too much at one time is a waste.

After getting upstairs, and before I could sit down, Sue came into my den trying to tell me something, but she couldn't quite manage.

It went something like this.

In all of our married life, all fifty-five, almost 60 years, you have never . . . 

, , , much  laughter by Sue . . . 

This was repeated, probably 4 times before she could get out the rest of it.

You see, I never leave toilet seat up. Never. Not even when Sue is parked downstairs for the afternoon, and I am up here frequenting the commode to rid myself of lunchtime tea because tea goes right through me. Typically, I will have to pee three or four times after a modest-sized cuppa. I know milady is bound to remain down there, and I could theoretically lower the seat, but something within me prevents me from doing so. Frankly, I almost always lower the lid as well. I don't know why; I just do.

So . . . I had never not lowered the seat. Never once. Not in 56 years.

But with all of my sneezing and blowing, just this one time  . . .  well  . . I somehow forgot. Now, you see, Sue is prone to not bother turning on the light for a quick pee. I often tease her about peeing in the dark. 

So Sue didn't notice, and Sue sat down . . .  and down. Kerplop!

Why doesn't Sue turn on the bathroom light, you may ask. I can't explain fully, but I can tell you that she sees the world brighter than most of us. This is why you will seldom see her sans sunglasses in outdoor photos and even in some brightly lit  indoor venues: certain restaurants, for example. I don't know that I have ever said this out loud, but I have often said it to myself: "Sue would wear sunglasses at midnight it there were a full moon."