August 31, 2001 - Toilet Seat Blues
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This week's Funny Quotes: (all by Erma Bombeck!)
On vacations: "We hit the sunny beaches where we occupy ourselves keeping the sun off our skin, the saltwater off our bodies and the sand out of our belongings."
"Sometimes I can't figure designers out. It's as if they flunked human anatomy."
"Everyone is guilty at one time or another of throwing out questions that beg to be ignored, but mothers seem to have a market on the supply. "Do you want a spanking or do you want to go to bed?" Don't you want to save some of the pizza for your brother?" Wasn't there any change?"
I so admire this woman! I have trouble changing the roll of toilet paper!
TOILET SEAT BLUES
by Kathe Campbell
Old college buddies were coming to our mountain and as I spiffied up both bathrooms it seemed that after 18 years both oak toilet seats were looking mighty weary. No amount of cleaning was going to heal a few cracks which, heaven forbid, could give way leaving my enthroned darlins' mired amongst oak splinter wreckage in toilet water. Mercy, what an awful thought!
The newspaper advertised genuine oak toilet seats on sale for the grand opening of our new super Wal-mart. At only $7.88 each, I chose two lovely looking commode toppers for my basket filled to the hilt with groceries, bird seed, a plastic bag of fancy guppies, camera batteries, a good corn broom, and a new 18 hr. bra. Umph!
To my utter joy, the next morning my husband, Ken, announced he had work scheduled in town as I all but shoved him out the door so I could plunge into my project. The new oaken settees were a perfect match for my log house. I couldn't recall when I'd been so excited over the prospect of demonstrating to Ken a happy homemaker maintenance moment installed all by myself, with one left hand yet.
After gathering a dozen or so tools from the garage I got down on my old arthritic knees to ascertain what size tool I would need to extricate the old bolts. Not even one of my carefully chosen tools
fit. Back to the garage for another handful of tools and this time I hit the jackpot. Using a whatchamacallit round-ended gadget, it only took 20 minutes to dislodge the first bolt off an endless three inch nut. Fifteen years had set that bolt with Schwarzeneggerian strength. So after endless grunting and groaning, I finally announced to the toilet, "I'll be back," as I retreated to the living room couch with a cappuccino. At least I had the right tool. Only three more bolts to go.
I had designed my big bathroom with a cute little niche for the toilet, but no matter how much light my fancy-schmancy wagon wheel light put out, I couldn't focus beneath that foreboding cold fixture. I grabbed my reading glasses and our best flashlight, stood it up on end, and was happily making progress when the phone rang. I raised myself to my knees and to my horror, discovered my prosthesis was submerged down the hole inside the porcelain receptacle helping me hang on for dear life. Good Lord, how gross! Well there was certainly no need to reveal that little tidbit to Ken, or anyone else for that matter.
As it was my afternoon to answer the office phone, it seemed apparent I should bring the portable phone in the bathroom with me. I set it up atop the tank for easy access and as it rang once again, I lurched and fumbled. PLUNK, in it fell emitting a sorrowful brrgggggg ~~~~~brrggggg. I dove in with my left hand, punched the orange light, answered "Big Sky Adjusters, this is Kathe," and with great relief, someone from the black lagoon answered back. I wanted desperately to laugh hysterically, as is par for the course in most of my life's trials, but I took care of business most professionally taking notes on damp toilet paper whilst straining through drippy toilet water designer glasses.
The main toilet seat was finished and it was truly a splendid sight. Having conquered the tricks and journeyman skills of a specialized trade I changed the seat in the guest bath in jig time. My entire project only took from 10:00 AM to 3:35 PM and all Ken had to say was, "See ya got the new seats on," to which I disdainfully replied . . . . . "I'm pooped, old man! I aim to please 'round here, so you please aim too!"
Have toilet seats, will travel!
Kathe Campbell Copyright 2001
And that's the way is was just a few weeks ago. In order to appreciate modern facilities, everyone should replace a toilet seat or ball cock at least once in their lives. That resounding successful flush gives one such a feeling of superiority, satisfaction and relief. Be my guest at www.2theheart.com/archives, Funny Friday archives, and my Montana Stationery or Pat Lowe's Bed of Roses at http://www.outlookstationery.com
The only time the world beats a path to your door is when you're in the bathroom!
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The Letter Box:
That was a hilarious story about your "Far-Flung Fears". As far as riding a roller coaster is concerned, I feel the same as you. I rode on one once when I was a teen-ager. Never again!
Once when we were at Banff, BC, I was finally brave enough to ride in one of those gondolas that take you up the mountain side to have snacks in the tea house at the top. It wasn't so bad, even though I had fears of the cables snapping. I enjoyed it.
Elevators up the outside of buildings are a No! No! I've never had the desire to have dinner in the restaurant at the top of the Space Needle in Seattle.
However, I don't have a fear of flying. I have flown round trip between Spokane, WA and Denver, CO. It was a thrill! Try it some time, you'll love it. Take a seat by a window. Your story was great!
Keep them coming.
Oh Deb, how I empathise with you on the 'death ride'. The last one I rode was when my young son wanted to go on and I didn't think he was old enough,so I insisted, if he went on, I had to go with him. Before the ride was halfway through, my heart was pounding as, with eyes closed I prayed - 'I'll be good, I'll have a baby, I'll do anything, anything, only let me get off this thing before I die'.
Never again, the children will just have to die alone.
I also have bitter memories of having to ride a chair lift (or walk miles) and the whole family laughing like drains as I staggered off and collapsed on the steps, legs too shaky to move. And I thought they loved me!
Not to mention the time we went across the Clifton Suspension Bridge and walked back to admire the view. 'Shall I lift you up to sit on the wall to see it better?' offered my eldest son, helpfully. 'No thanks' I murmured from my position in the middle of the bridge, eyes tightly closed.
Far Flung Fears was one I could most definitely relate to! I get nervous if the car goes over 60 MPH! Once we went to Disney World for a family vacation (NOT my idea) and even the kiddie rides made me long for a marguerita. But I did them all. I rode the scariest, harriest rides so my husband wouldn't think I was a chicken. After four hours, I threw up. Thank heaven! I was at least released from this nightmare of rollercoasters and relinquished to the hotel, where I had a jolly time lunching alone and downing the margueritas! Shoulda thought of throwing up hours earlier! I am definitely in the "Scardy Cat" category!
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