While you guys are waxing about being way out on the Back 9 (over 50), I'd have to agree on always having a clear path to the head.

In recent years, my wife has taken on a nasty habit of stacking boxes/random stuff behind closed doors and in front of closet doors, thus making access to either a royal pain. If she ever blocks any kind of access to the head, I'll know she's gone off the deep end, and will separate.


Excerpt from Robert Crais' "The Monkey's Raincoat:"
"She took another microscopic bite of her sandwich, then pushed it away. Maybe she absorbed nutrients from her surroundings."