[ lovecraftian bathtime ]

There really is nothing that makes showertime more enjoyable than listening to the frantic, heavy thud of a force unseen hurling itself against the bathroom door, periodically and desperately trying the doorknob with frenetic, thumbless hands. (The cat who ruins everything.)

For additional bathing enjoyment, add the hopeless, moor-wind wailing of a 17 month old child, who, as she she hangs pitifully on the baby gate, seems convinced that she has been abandoned forever to the Lovecraftian nightmare that is her bedroom and upstairs hall.

Feel the jealousy rise behind your sternum, friends – I enjoy this experience daily!


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