He just came galumphing in from the pub, stumbled past me into the bathroom and did the hugest of pisses (pent up cider) which I could hear with perfect clarity through the door. It was like the cascading fall of Niagra or something, crashing down into our comparably minute toilet. Seriously; bloke pee is fucking next level compared to lady pee.
Sorry, is this TMI? I don't care. I have to deal with listening to a man piss on a daily basis, and I love him and I love living with him, but it's just things like this that make me sigh, and then laugh. We are very different creatures.
He's now trotted off to the shop (second attempt, after forgetting his wallet the first time) and just rang me asking if Greek yoghurt would be okay. Okay for what? I ask. He got confused with that and cottage cheese ahhh.