For a lot of years, I’ve referred to going to the toilet as “powdering my nose.” I’d read about the history of euphemisms for the toilet (water closet, W.C., restroom, bathroom, etc.) and didn’t have much patience with them. I settled on using “powder room” because it wasn’t graphic but still got the point across. I also found it funny. Over the decades, Pam has gotten used to this.
At O’Hare recently, I found that my nose was stuffed and running at the same time (darned allergies). I told Pam that I needed to take care of my nose and then walked to the powder room where I knew I’d find something to blow my nose with. Pam quite reasonably thought that I meant that was going to use the bathroom.
Which is why she was surprised to hear what sounded like a ship’s foghorn echoing from the powder room. Apparently, she can recognize the sound of me blowing my nose.