Domestic arrangements

We've been having our deck repaired, a two-week job that started in mid-October and still isn't finished. I've agreed to go with Gunmetal Gray paint on railing, even though I didn't choose it.  The stucco is repaired, the new rain gutter about to be installed. In our last conversation, the surly-sexist contractor was so polite  it was unnerving.

This morning on the way home from Safeway, Jerry and I were talking about arrangements for our houseguests, who arrive on Tuesday. My arrangements, anyway.

"You'll move out of your bathroom into mine," I instructed.  "The guests get all the towel racks in yours.  Then when my sister comes, she'll use my bathroom."  We pulled into the driveway, past all the construction junk flung around the yard.

"Then I'll move to the porta-pottie," he said, without missing a beat.   Problem-solving: the Man's Job.

Jerry's bathroom while we have houseguests?