I say

By PS Gifford

Robert opened the brightly painted red front door to his home with his dog panting contently at his feet.

“That was good run wasn’t it Chester?” He cooed warmly to his four legged companion.

Robert realized that he was completely drenched in sweat.

He hummed to himself as he proceeded to his downstairs shower. He slowly disrobed leaving his sweat drenched smelly jogging suit in a disheveled pile on the ground.

“Heck The wife will take care of that!” He reasoned“She takes care of all the housework”

Roberts humming intensified as the hot water descended over him. He turned the temperature up to just below his thresh hold. With a well rehearsed flair directed the shower head directly to that magical spot in-between the shoulder blades; the place where it seems to relax the whole body. He is contented and his humming got even louder.

He was so harmonious in his moment and reveling almost frenziedly in the joy of the almost scolding water which was vigorously rushing all over him and invigorating Robert to his core.…

So lost as it happened that he was blissfully unaware of his wife entering the bathroom, so lost indeed that he was completely naпve of the fact that as she lowered the toilet seat to pee she was cursing her husband’s sloppiness and so lost in fact that he was entirely unaware that as his wife sat there, her grumbling intensified at the sight of his dirty clothes..

However as she got up from the commode her presence to him became painfully clear.

She flushed.
The end.