one of the problems with a 1940s house

One of the problems with a 1940s house is that there is only one bathroom. Well, we have two, technically, but the other is a tiny add on with a shower stall only, no tub. So, because he is an inherently complicated person, hyphen splits his three s's between the two. showering and... er, his business in one, and shaving in the little one. He also styles his hair in there and irrigates his nose and hocs his numerous lougees. So to Annabelle, the little one is his and it is "disguusssting." I rarely clean the ittle one, because it is hyphen and therefore should be immaculate, but apparently, bathroom tidiness is not on his list of anal retentive qualities, so it is kind of gross. Annabelle is very protective of "our" bathroom and frequently points out to him when he leaves his nose irrigator in it, "papa, you left your nose boogie thing in our bathroom. that's disguuusssting." Guess where she learned the word disgusting--as in "this house is disgusting"??? And she says it with such disgust that it is amusing. Anyway, this lead me to tonight's little spat.

ALN (wandering around the house, calling): "chaaarrming, chaaarrrming, where are you?

Me (in the kitchen trying to clean the floors while a tiny danger mouse baby climbs on me): who are you looking for babes?

ALN: I am looking for my prince. Chaarmming, chaaarrrming, where aaaaarrrreeee you???

H(calling from the bathroom): Baarrrbbie, baaarrbie, I am in here!!!!!

ALN (knocking on the door and indignantly scolding) Charming what are you doing in there??? You better not be making big stinky poops in our bathroom."

Hmm. Our night in the unFairhope Hampton Inn should be interesting.