8// Oh My Bathroom

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Monday    

I woke up early. Very early. I was tossing and turning all night despite my best efforts AKA melatonin and meditation, and I was very glad today was supposed to be a relaxing one.

Once the sunlight had started making its way through the window, I decided to beat everyone to the sinks in the bathroom. I grabbed my caddy and softly thumped down the stairs. Turning the corner around the stairs I smacked right into a slippery body that smelled strongly of spearmint soap. I stumbled back a little till I caught my balance and looked up to see Becker, wrapped only in a towel. His face was bright red.

"I left my clothes upstairs," he apologized as he ran around me and up the staircase.

I stood there in my pjs, shocked for a little longer. I walked into one of the bathroom stalls and checked my face in the mirror. Small clumps of goop were falling from my eyes and my hair was plastered to the dried drool on the side of my face. I laughed at myself.

I slowly got ready in the bathroom, and when I went back upstairs, I made sure to keep my eyes forward so as not to see Becker as I climbed past his floor. My father had just gotten up and walked through his door when I reached my little couch bed.

"Good morning, darling," he said as he walked over to hug me, "how'd you sleep?"

"Not well," I yawned.

"Me neither. Perhaps we'll adjust to the altitude and cooler air soon. Do you want coffee? Eggs?"

"Yes to both, please. Hey dad, when you met mom, did you think she was... pushy?"

"Where is this coming from?" My dad said, concerned.

"Sometimes, it feels like mom tries to push me to do things I don't want to do," I said trying not to reveal too much.

My dad played with his mustache as he thought, "your mom is a very strong-willed and vivacious woman. I think everyone has their own little quirks, and it's how we react to them that defines our own character."

"You've been spending too much time with the psychologists," I laughed.

"I'll go make some eggs," he ruffled my frizzy hair and walked downstairs.

My mom got up not too long after and gave me a big hug.

"How'd you sleep, honey?" She grinned at me, "I slept like a baby. It was so comfy in that bed. It would have been more comfortable if it were a King sized bed, but I guess the room couldn't hold a King sized bed. It isn't large enough for that."

"I love you, mom," I said.

She smiled at me,"Honey, I love you too. I'm going to go get some eggs; your dad promised he'd make some last night, since you know I'm no good with a pan. Feel free to change in our little room."

I took her offer and slipped into my long underwear, blue jeans, long sleeved shirt, and two pairs of socks. Then I descended to the kitchen where I grabbed a solitary cup of breakfast tea and some warm, fluffy scrambled eggs.

Dr Patrick Greene came down not too soon later holding one of Weston's hand; the other hand was gripping a small teddy bear. Dr Greene set Weston in the chair next to me, and teddy bear sat up on the table between us.

Next was Becker and Dr Midge Greene, who was accosting Becker about unfair insurance costs in medical fields. Becker added to the droll conversation lightly and seemed very adult-like in that moment. I sipped my tea.

"Alright, Midge," Dr Greene said after a moment, "let the boy enjoy his winter break." He walked over and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Funny coming from you, Patrick dear, who has been trying to pull Trisha into your field since we first drove up here," his wife responded, smiling.

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