Not Completely Inept

Six months ago, Elijah slammed his bathroom door open so hard that the hinge popped off the door and three screws flew out into the playroom. I gathered the screws and dropped them into a soap dish on the bathroom counter, lamenting the baby's new-found joy of frustrating me (I had just told him to stop banging on the door, but was currently... indisposed, and unable to stop him. His glee at my obvious frustration was even more frustrating). About a month after that, I was moving the soap dish and two of the screws went down the drain. I shrugged and felt glad that we had at least one so I could replace the other two.

Because we are trying to get the house on the market, we have starting fixing the little things that we have lived with but that a potential buyer won't want to see. Today, right at Elijah's naptime, Husband decided it was time to fix the bathroom door. I finish changing a diaper just in time to see him sitting on the floor of the bathroom, trap (U-bend from under the sink) in hand.

Me: What are you doing?

Him: Getting the screws.

Me: How did you know how to do that??

Him: I'm not completely inept.

Me: Huh.

Husband proceeds to pull the stopper in the sink and pour out the contents of the trap, and out fall the screws, with some other nasty looking brown sludge.

Me: Gross. That's the sink where I clean Elijah's messes. That's probably poop.

Husband makes no reply, but unstops the sink and rinses the screws off, restoring them to a little bit of their former glory. This involves running the water for a minute or so. And then he starts giggling.

Me: What?

Him, holding up the trap, giggling even more: I forgot to put this back on.

Me: Not completely inept, huh? ... I am not cleaning that up.