Battle of the Sexes.

There's a commercial on TV these days for an SUV. The Mercury Mariner, I think it is. In the commercial, a couple has a Mariner and, apparently, another crappy car. They each try to get up earlier than the other to get the chance to drive it. It's a mildly amusing commercial that stretches the bounds of likelihood.

But this weekend I noticed that my wife and I quietly wage a battle between us: Who will change the depleted bar of soap. We share a bar of soap in the shower. She uses it for her naughty parts (Dove exfoliating soap for the rest) and I use it for my whole body (which is my "naughty parts"). We wring that bar for all possible lather as long as we can, until it's smaller than a medium-sized band aid. Sometimes in the morning, after my wife is done with her shower, she'll tell me on the way out that I'll need to get a new bar. Sometimes I'll get my revenge by being well into my shower and yelling for her to get me a new bar, interrupting her morning routine. I'm not sure what the motivation is to NOT get a new bar. Maybe it's picking up the slimy old one. That's all I can think of. It's the most devious we are with each other, which isn't very devious. It's just surprising to me because my wife is so responsible and likes things to be taken care. But I now KNOW that she can be a lazy soap-stretcher just like me.

The perfect woman for me.

iPod: "Brave New World" by Michael Penn and "Beyond Belief" by Elvis Costello.