Every night for the past 7 years I've been sneaking into the next door neighbor's house and silently raising their towel bars ever so slightly. Just a quarter inch or so each time. I repair the drywall and paint and rehang the towels just as I've found them. They don't really notice the change and so have slowly adapted to ever increasing heights without issue. Now finally, the towel bars in their master bath are 37 feet higher than normal. I've had to raise the ceiling several times, all in total silence, but it's worked out. But now it's paying off. To simply hang a washcloth to dry after wiping up vomit, they require either an acrobatics team (which they don't have) or multiple ladders. My ladder rental business is booming. If the man of house's incontinence keeps up, I'll be able to retire in 6 months. American Dream: Realized.

Every night for the past 7 years I’ve been sneaking into the next door neighbor’s house and silently raising their towel bars ever so slightly. Just a quarter inch or so each time. I repair the drywall and paint and rehang the towels just as I’ve found them.

They don’t really notice the change and so have slowly adapted to ever increasing heights without issue. Now finally, the towel bars in their master bath are 37 feet higher than normal. I’ve had to raise the ceiling several times, all in total silence, but it’s worked out.

But now it’s paying off. To simply hang a washcloth to dry after wiping up vomit, they require either an acrobatics team (which they don’t have) or multiple ladders.

My ladder rental business is booming.

If the man of house’s incontinence keeps up, I’ll be able to retire in 6 months.

American Dream: Realized.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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