Towels are for sissies

Mark and I have many heated debates over the correct usage of bath towels.

I hold the traditional view that towels are best used to dry your body after showering, and should be hung up to dry afterwards. Mark maintains a totally different view; namely, that towels are simply bath accessories, completely irrelevant to drying yourself off, and are properly stored in a heap on the floor. We can't seem to agree or comprehend the other's differing opinion on this.

I dunno, maybe Mark's subscribing to some uber eco-friendly point of view. Maybe he thinks washing and drying all those towels is ruining the ozone layer or something. He prefers to ignore his towel and just air dry off after showers.

But yesterday, he took it to whole new level. I heard him turn off the shower, then didn't hear anything else for a good 10 minutes. I wasn't worried until the 15 minute mark, when the silence continued (anyone who knows kids also knows silence = trouble).

I knocked on the door.

"You okay in there?" I asked.

"Yes!" he gasped. I could hear him breathing heavily, and I freaked out. I busted the door open, expecting to see him lying on the floor in the throes of an evil low blood sugar or bleeding uncontrollably from some bath-incurred injury.

Instead, he stood there, wearing nothing but a big grin, his little chest heaving up and down.

"Are you all right?" I asked again. I was more worried about his mental health now.

"Yup!" he gasped again. "I dried my whole body using just air! Look!" And before I could answer, he started jumping up and down.

"I didn't even need a towel," he exclaimed, proudly. "I dried myself off doing jumping jacks!"

I stood there, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, I backed out of the bathroom and shut the door.

Because, as my niece Nathalie once wisely remarked, "There are just some things you can't ever un-see."