I had you whooped. I had won. And then the holidays, and birthday parties, and various other things came along...and so once again, you have taken over. You clever bastard.
But I am on your trail, and I am coming for you. It's happening, so deal with it. It will not be pleasant. If you'd like, you can spare yourself the humiliation of being soundly defeated and just wash and dry yourself.
I'll give you until this evening if you should choose to do just that. Then, the battle begins. And I will triumph. Know that, and enjoy your final hours.