Once, as a child, after I stretched up on my tippy-toes to wash my hands, a belt hook on my jeans became snagged on the cabinet handle beneath the bathroom sink. Owing to my light frame and the sturdily constructed denim, I was caught, slightly dangling, and could not free myself. I was entangled for only moments. Still, before my brother freed me, I had a vision of the future where I remained hooked to the bathroom cabinet handle for years, and my meals had to be brought to me.
BONUS CHILDHOOD BATHROOM TALE:
One day I turned the sink faucet to its far left, waited until the water was hot, filled a glass and sipped.
"It tastes like tea!" I said.
"Never do that again," Mom said.
EXTRA SUPER BONUS CHILDHOOD BATHROOM TALE:
One day I spent a lot of time looking at my reflection in the mirror, and thinking about the parallel-universe mirror me, living his life in the mirror world, and walked back-and-forth from the bathroom to the hallway, where I looked at the opposite side of the mirror's wall, kind of hoping every time that I would be able to access the Mirrorland.