*#%@!!!

July 19, 2009
I get along with most folks just fine but the bathroom towel rack and I, well let's just say we aren't on speaking terms. Several months ago I pulled the right side of the towel rack straight out of the wall as I was trying to grab a falling Pearl in the tub (no one seems to acknowledge that I was probably saving her life or at least a goose bump) and instinctively grabbing the nearest solid object for balance. We suckered our neighbor into fixing it for us since we don't own any tools and quite frankly, needed someone's expert guidance through the process. Then I nagged Jeff for another few months to texture the wall and repaint over the now-fixed hole. We finally got around to fixing it and Jeff spent all day texturing, sanding, repainting, and rehanging the pictures in the bathroom in preparation for the "woman party". That was Wednesday night. The bathroom looked beautiful! Then Friday night came and the towel rack and I had another run in. I honestly think the stupid thing is out to destroy my marriage single handedly! All I remember is going in to fix my pedicure, turning ever so slightly, and losing my balance just enough to make me reach out for the wall. I promise I wasn't intending to grab the towel rack, let alone rip it from the wall! When I felt the towel hit my wrist and a clank on the floor I exploded! I'm actually surprised Jeff didn't wake up to my yelling of a few choice words (hey no one's perfect here!). Not only did I successfully ruin Jeff's hard work 24 hours after he finished it, but I now have put two holes in our bathroom wall, on opposite ends of the stupid thing!!! URGHHHHHHH!!!!!!! To make matters worse, I spent double what I had anticipated at the grocery store (which comes out of Jeff's account) Friday night and was already prepping myself for that explanation come morning. I tossed and turned all night debating on which was going to get me in more trouble... the grocery bill or the towel rack. Jeff FREAKED and hasn't let me hear the end of it since. Apparently I will be calling my dad tomorrow, while crying in the middle of Lowe's, staring at the endless isles of tools, sheet rock, wood, and screws to try and figure out how to patch this myself.