"... a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: nonhitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, washcloth, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet-weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with. " -chapter 3 of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
What was my mistake? You guessed it, I was without towel tonight. And as a result of my initial towel failure, I am without any towels now.
Flash back to the end of another goofy episode of something Disney, I announce: "It's bathtime, everyone upstairs!" The boy gets in the shower, the girl gets in the tub, everyone is happy. This is too easy. I'm thinking. What's going on? Ahhh! I forgot a towel. Oh no. I go downstairs to hunt in the laundry room, because, well, I'm a laundry avoider.
In my absence, of exactly 3 minutes, approximately, (give or take a mini M&M cookie) the girl had squirted an entire bottle of soap all over herself in an effort to create a bubble sanctuary within the confines of the sliding-shower door tub. It was a frothy mess. We had to turn on the shower to stop the foam from multiplying. Which triggered some dramatic performance equivalent to the Wicked Witch of the West melting. She's got a thing for Broadway, what can I say? I finally retrieved her from The Wanka Mobile she had created in the bathtub, and I noticed a puddle forming in the hallway. I thought, "I just took the dog out, what is going on? Is the wall leaking?"
I followed the creek in the hallway, into my bedroom, and into my bathroom. Where the boy was taking his shower. He had decided he wanted to take a bath instead. Oh. No. Our conversation went something like this:
"This a shower, not a bath. If you'd like to take a bath, you can. You can even take a shower in a bath, but you cannot take a bath in a shower. So what was your mistake?"
Boy: "Covering the drain in the shower."
I had to go back downstairs to gather up every available towel we had to clean up the creek, because it was beginning to drip off of the top stair.
I'm laughing now. It really was funny. However, trying to heft an entire laundry basket of sopping-wet towels down the stairs, not so much. I pushed it off the top stair in hopes it would bobsled it's way down. Yeah, that didn't happen either. If you ever need a body moved, clearly I'm not the person to call.
My moral? Take the advice from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: