Cozy Toes

One fact of life that I've noticed in my years of moving from place to place that has held true across state and cultural lines is this... If a boy lived here first there will be a towel for a bath mat.

Go home towel, you are drunk.

Gentlemen? This is a towel. Used for drying things. It is not a mat. Have you ever washed a towel that'd been soaking up water on the floor for a few weeks? Gross.

This, on the other hand, IS a bathmat. What, you don't see it? Okay let's break it down.

 Strips of t-shirt hem I had left over hotglued on to keep it all together.

Some of that weird no-slide rubber netting you put in your cabinet to keep your glasses in place.

Then...

Voila. Bathmat. That doesn't stink. The furriness hugs your toes like an army of tiny mice forming a sock around your foot. It's delicious. It makes you wanna go pee all the time just so you have an excuse to stand on it.