The other day, I passed by the bathroom and noticed that my husband was hurriedly pushing all the counter top contents into just one corner – the corner furthest from him. So, I stopped and asked what was up.
He was all “Oh, you mean why am I moving this stuff? I have to pee. And, you know, I don’t want to splash or whatever.”
Yea…? Splashing. All the way over to and on top of the counter top, sure.
Upon seeing the confusion on my face, he thought it best to elaborate.
“Yea, sometimes there are splashes. Like…um…ok, you’ve seen a urine hole, right? Like in a guy’s bathroom? It’s kind of like that. When you pee into a urine hole, it splashes and stuff.”
A urine hole.
Never have I laughed so hard.
Because for 27 years, the man of my dreams had thought that “urinal” was two words.