You've got four lines of poetry. Picture yourself waiting in line for a public washroom and you really, really need to pee. Now imagine me showing up and announcing you have to wait while I clean said washroom. Use your poetry skills to try to convince me to let you use the facilities before I clean.
Just a heads up, though: if it's fifteen minutes before the end of my day and I need to restock toilet paper and paper towel, because the washrooms are going to be open for another *seven* hours, the answer is gonna be no.
Man, did I hear some stuff from the ladies today whenever I was trying to get in to clean their side. Pretty sure I got less and less polite as the day went on.
Anyway. Made it through. Now I just have to deal with the mess that was left after I finished today when I start tomorrow morning and... well, there are still a lot of people in town. I guess we'll see how it goes.
Took Max over to Uncle Adam and Aunt Becky's house tonight to watch the fireworks from their deck. He appreciated it, which was good. Because I would have been happier with getting him to bed at a reasonable time and getting some extra rest this evening.
Whatever. Happy 150th birthday Canada. I think a whole lot of people enjoyed celebrating your milestone.
My pee is a bomb and only
Toilet water can diffuse it.
So let me in already or
I might just lose it!