Perfect Timing

Chris and I have been doing this really random thing lately.  No, no, don't go down that path...  

He's been timing me to see if I can do certain things under a certain amount of time.  I love a good challenge.  If someone says I can't do something, I love to prove them wrong, or at least fail trying.

So the other evening, we needed some basic living essentials... There really isn't anything that you can substitute around the house for toilet paper.  Well you can - paper towels, napkins - but it's not pretty folks. Can you say yowchimama?   I digress.  We were going to be passing a Walmart, but were also really ready to be home, so I bet him that I could make it in and out in 10 minutes.  I had about 10-12 things on my list, ranging from cold medicine to carrots (read: ranging from one side of the store to the other).  He started the timer when he dropped me off at the front door, and even though he said I walked out of the store (5 bags in tow) at 9:58, I put the groceries in the back and got into my seat at 10:17.  Not too shabby.  I'm considering this to be our new way of conquering the awfulness that is Wallyworld. 

Fast forward to this morning, the husband said he would be getting in the shower after he folded the basket of clothes he was working on (unemployed=stinky, man around the house to help with stuff=awesomeness).  So I bet him that I could be in and out of the shower by the time he got done with the clothes.  But he upped the ante and said "Three minutes", which I replied "You're on buddy".  The time started when the water turned on, and stopped when I got back into the bedroom.  This was my time.  Boom-shaka-laka.  

For the record, this will not be the way I start taking showers now.  I love showers.  The worst part of my day is the moment when I turn the shower off.  Those glorious eight (or twelve if I feel like pampering myself) minutes every day are as close to heaven as I'll get on this earth.