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A Not-So-Very-Super Bowl

So, I decided, during — and almost after — the fact, that I’m pretty much taking the weekend off from writing. I’ve had too little time, I had to work for much of the day today, and there’s just too much needed R&R to do for the rest of the weekend.

However, because I do so hate to leave you wanting — assuming anyone would actually ‘want‘ any of this nonsense — I have a teensy little issue to report. Hopefully, this’ll tide you over until tomorrow… or maybe Monday. I’m not quite sure yet.

Anyway, here’s the thing — as some of you may know, we’re having some work done on our bathrooms (or, more accurately, our ‘bath and a half’ spread across two rooms of the house). And the work, after weeks and weeks and weeks, is finally almost done.

(Not ‘done, mind you. Just ‘almost done’. So there are still strangers in our home at odd hours of the day and night. And we can’t even sic the dog on their crotches, or the final painting won’t get done — it’s all terribly frustrating.)

But the point is, we’re nearly finished with the whole project. And most of the pieces are in place — the toilets work, the sinks are both in place, one of the two mirrors is up, blah, blah, blah. Here’s the thing — and let me assure you, I’ve only found this from personal… intimate experience:

The seat on the new toilet downstairs is… well, unstable.

This is a very, very bad thing.

Now, for you ladies in da house, I’ll explain what I mean by ‘unstable’ — what happens is, for us stander-uppers, we have to raise both the toilet lid and the toilet seat before ‘firing away’. Under normal circumstances, this is no real problem — we raise ’em both, and they both stay raised.

But that is not, unfortunately, how things are happening in the washroom here at Chez Charlie. No. Right now, I can raise the toilet parts, and then I have… oh, I dunno, ten, maybe fifteen seconds, before the seat comes creeeeeeeeaking away from the lid and crashing back toward horizontal. This is not — I repeat, not — a Good Thing™.

Again, for the women-type folks who may be unfamiliar with this particular situation, let’s just say that it’s never good to be in the actual act of urination, and then having something careening rapidly towards both your whizzer and the receptacle into which you’re whizzing. And that’s how it is when the toilet seat begins to fall — there’s a process involved in this endeavor, dammit, and a moving toilet seat is simply not part of the procedure.

For one thing, you only have one hand free — at maximum, mind you, and none at minimum, depending on where you’re at in the process, or what you’re also holding at the time, or whether your name is Peter North. In any event, the very last thing you want to be doing at that moment is flailing and lunging, trying to keep the toilet seat up. So, needless to say, I’m not terribly happy just now.

And it’s not as though there’s much we can do about it, either. We don’t have a big, fuzzy seat cover that’s causing the problem. And we can’t tilt the toilet bowl, or the bathroom floor, backwards a few degrees, either. So, it’s either sit for a tinkle, or play the game of ‘catch the porcelain ring before it knocks you in the winkie’. Neither option is good, clearly.

I suppose in the end, I’ll probably just wash my hands of the whole damned mess and make sure to always use the loo upstairs. Or out back on the lawn, whichever happens to be closer at the time. At least out in the yard, all I have to worry about are mosquitoes. And… um, yeah, come to think of it, that sounds pretty fricking unpleasant, too. I’ll stick with the ‘upstairs option’, I think. There are simply some places where calamine lotion was never meant to go.

Anyway, that’s my dilemma. Maybe these guys just aren’t done, and the toilet will be fully functional when they’re finished. But I’m guessing that this ‘leaning tower of pee-pee’ is what I’m stuck with, and I simply don’t have the reflexes — or the dead-eye aim — to make it work. Looks like it’s gonna be a long, wet summer folks. Better put on those ponchos. Damn.