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  • My daughter is on her way home from college—slowly—spending more and more nights at home. When she uses the restroom in the middle of the night, she doesn’t flush so that she won’t wake me. I hear her get up, close the bathroom door, not flush, open the bathroom door, and return down the hall. I think, “Man, I wish she would flush” and I go back to sleep.

    In the morning I’m greeted with pee in the toilet bowl, so I
    flush it down,
    and then flush again.
    I feel bad that I’m breaking those water conservation rules I learned in the seventies, but even when I was a kid I thought they were gross.

    I’ve begun to associate the peaceful, unworried feeling of having my daughter safely at home, tucked in her bed, with the sight of one clump of toilet paper stuck under the yellowy waterline.
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