Go. Go on. I’ll wait…I’ve got four more rows on that Irish Diamond Shawl, I can be kept busy for hours here…
Wow, back so soon? OK, first of all, I about laughed myself out of my chair.
And then I realized that I too have a toilet seat story. It is so profoundly lame and embarrassing that I naturally feel the need to share it right immediately now, with the entire Internet.
Our downstairs bathroom toilet seat developed some marks some years ago. Like, about five years ago. These marks were nasty looking (uh, they looked like poo) and they were in a place you just couldn’t help seeing, right down front.
I put up with them for five years, suffering in silence because, well, I don’t really know why. Perhaps because every time I want something fixed around here, it ends up costing $300 or more.
ANYWAY. I was in Home Depot (not usually a place I hang out much) getting a bunch of other remodeling-related things and I happened to wander past the toilet seats and my eye was caught by the price on the standard toilet seat: $4.97.
Five bucks? FIVE BUCKS?! I have been putting up with not-poo-but-could-play-it-on-TV marks for FIVE YEARS, when I could have spent FIVE BUCKS and made it go away?!?!
Well, we didn’t have that kind of standard toilet seat, we had the longer (but still standard) one which cost a whopping $8.97.
{sarcasm} Ya. Sticker shock. {/sarcasm}
So needless to say I bought the toilet seat and I brought it home and we installed it (by which I mean, I handed it to my husband and said, “Downstairs toilet. Immediately, please.”) and I was thrilled with it.
So thrilled, in fact (LAME ALERT!), that I insisted on not only telling people about it, but showing them the new toilet seat. That’s right! People came to my house for a party, and got the deluxe Toilet Seat Tour, complete with descriptions of the poo-ish-marks and the $3 drama of ‘standard’ v. ‘extra-long’. With four part harmony and extra chorus repeats.
That this was profoundly lame and/or inappropriate behavior did not strike me until long after my
I.
Am.
Such.
A.
Dork.
But! At least I don’t have faux poo on my toilet seats…
8 comments:
Howling here....saw Stephanie's post and laughed myself silly, and now you! Amazing how such simple things can bring so much joy. May you sit in good health and happiness!
better than four FART harmony!
But! At least I don’t have faux poo on my toilet seats…
We don't hold with this french stuff. We call it shampoo.
I can, if not beat you, show that I am totally equal to your dorkdom.
We had to get a whole new toilet (don't ask) and once SD installed it, I noticed that it was taller than the old one. So tall that my feet barely touch the floor. So, I have been taking all of our visitors to the guest suite to ask them if they think that maybe it's a handicapped toilet. Queen of the Dorks. That's me.
My husband and I spent week debating the merits of a soft-closing plastic toilet seat versus a regular wood toilet seat. Because, you know, plastic is cheap and plastic, but soft-closing means not waking up every time one of the boys gets up to pee in the middle of the night and drops the toilet seat when he's done. These are weighty matters, and not to be taken lightly. (The soft-closing plastic seat won.)
Oh, and Buffi? They now make standard toilets in two heights: the old height and what they call "seat height", which is the same height as a handicapped seat. Apparently you are not especially tall. I am nearly six feet, and I love my new taller toilet, since my knees are no longer up around my ears while peeing, which is considerably tidier.
It's the little things in life, isn't it? And besides, what if it wasn't "faux"?
Mine is blue, which made me so happy, because although the rest of my bathroom looks entirely too lived in, my toilet seat is shiney, new, and blue!
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