Our house is like the movie Signs: like little Bo Hess, I leave half-consumed glasses of water everywhere. Upon discovering my peculiar quirk, my better (and thirstier) half made it a house rule that only "safe" drinks could be left, unfinished, around the house. He then began finishing what I had started. Marital harmony prevailed.
I also have a habit of leaving the bathtub half full. Now, one cannot leave numerous bathtubs lying around the house, nor is my husband willing to bathe in lukewarm, used water, especially after I've shaved my legs. One day, after staring at a half-filled bathtub and longing to fill it yet again, I realized how environmentally catastrophic my great pleasure was.
I thus vowed to leave no bathtub half full, nor to allow this precious resource to go down the drain. The household plants were the first recipients of the recycled bathwater. The parched lawn was to be the next.
Unfortunately, I have a third habit worth mentioning: I tend to get distracted in the middle of a task. So it was that three bottles of recycled bathwater were left on the floor of our computer room. And that's where my husband's love of bottled water comes in . . .
Inside Rod's digestive system is my bathwater. Rod's kidneys know me in a personal and intimate way. That said, my life partner was less than happy when I declared (while laughing) that he had inadvertently found a way to become even 'closer' as husband and wife.
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