The One with the Dinosaurs

When my grandparents bought their house a few years back, the fact that there was no medicine cabinet in the second bathroom was a bone of contention. Completely unacceptable. A reason they almost did not purchase the house. So they had one specially installed.

Which they never wound up using.

My mom wanted to surreptitiously fill this medicine cabinet with ping-pong balls and hope they'd open it eventually.

Great minds think alike, apparently, because my aunt beat her to it. She filled the cabinet, not with ping-pong balls, but plastic dinosaur toys of primary colors. I lost count of the weeks we waited for my grandparents to make the discovery. Eventually we got sick of waiting and began dropping heavy hints, until we finally told them to look in the cabinet.

Since then, the dinosaurs have been slowly encroaching on the rest of the bathroom. First it was one on the counter. Another hiding in the closet. Two perched on an unused towel rack. My aunt used them as her playthings, arranging them and rearranging them every week, until they exploded all over the shower. It's become what's known as a Thing.

But this week, my grandmother finally had her say.

 



Beware, all dinosaurs who enter here.









Proof that my family is in fact crazy awesome.

Maybe this helps to explain my, er, unique habit of adding sound effects to daily life. Exhibit A, my June TBR and Book Haul: