Last Saturday The Person turned 30.
That means he's a grown up now.
He celebrate by taking part in a Total Warrior race with some work friends. For those not in the know and not inclined to click on the link it's basically a 10km assault course. You run, you do obstacles and it's fun. Some of these obstacles include swimming through mud.
On Wednesday I found The Person's kit that he had completed the race in.
At the bottom of the laundry basket.
Let's count on our fingers shall we? Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.....
That's right. Five whole days of sitting and festering at the bottom of the basket whilst I had merrily loaded more clothes on top. Five days in which those clothes and accompanying towel hadn't dried out but had instead festered, becoming a fetid stink of mud and sweat and general grossness.
Unfortunately I made this discovery at the end of a particularly hard day at work. But I think I did well to not throw his clothes (or something much heavier) at his head.
I now literally understand why my Mum would go mad when I would leave my PE kit to sweat in my bag instead of putting it in the washing machine.
But also, I was at school and not 30 years old...