It has always been one of my least favorite things, but a girls gotta do right?
One evening our liner was particularly eewie. As we preparing for the nightly bath process with the little one, I thought, "Why not? It'll be quick." (Insert ominous music here.)
|The offending rings.|
Hubbs was nearby and saw my struggles. With puffed out chest and all his cowboy swagger, he entered the bathroom with a drawl stating, "Step aside little lady." I believe if he'd had a hat, it would have been tipped.
As the perspiration began beading on his brow, the rings refused to budge. Hubbs stalked out of the bathroom mumbling about tools.
At this point I put the little one in the tub and began the bath time process, complete with soapy hair horns and sudsy tickles. Once we entered the 'swim like a fishy' phase Hubbs arrived with an assortment of pliers, screwdrivers and whatnot.
As he moved through his arsenal the rings chuckled and tittered, but did not open. Then suddenly with a snap and crack white plastic went flying and I believe some colorful words were uttered. The little one picked up a crescent shaped piece, handed it to me and said, "Oh no." At that point Hubbs exited the bathroom, we wrapped up bath and bedtime leaving the fresh and un-hung liner in the bathroom folded in a corner.
The next morning I jumped in the shower. As I was showering I glanced up at the stubborn rings. Pulled at ring two and....nope. (Remember that ring one was gone.) But then, I looked...a small opening on one side of the ring. I gingerly grasped the ring and pulled in separate directions, sliding the ring apart.
When Hubbs came to see what excitement was causing howls of laughter at 6:00 a.m. I explained what happened. I believe there may have been more curse words.