Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Toilet Seat Conspiracy

I have been incredibly blessed by the Gods above to live in a household where I am the only person who lacks a penis. I'm completely surrounded by testosterone. They're messy. They're noisy. They often smell kind of funny. What can I say? I love each and every one of them, not to mention I have built myself my own army of protection.

I just have to ask though, why is it that every time I walk into my bathroom to do my business I have to put the toilet seat down? I have to touch the disgusting seat that they inevitably just peed all over or I have to completely clean the whole seat before I can even sit down! I think it's a conspiracy. One additional way in which they plan to make me crazy for good and have me locked away in a padded room.

I love the days when I'm especially tired or not paying close attention, I go to sit down and feel my rump splash down into toilet water. Ah, there is nothing better than flailing your arms and legs about to escape from the ceramic bowl of death. Boys. What to do, what to do.

Telling them to place the toilet seat back down (in the words of Hank Hill) into it's factory pre-set down position is about as useless as buying socks for a fish. They'll never listen. They just flush and forget.

I suppose being out numbered by men in my home there is only one thing left to do. I can no longer tell them to put the seat down. I must start leaving the toilet seat up. I must become one of them (minus the penis of course). I must join the Toilet Seat Conspiracy before I die in a toilet related accident. It's all over now... all over.....