In the good old days, women who wanted to spend a penny would go to the House of Lords to powder the nose. On the other hand, men who wanted to see a man about a dog would go to the bog to shake hands with the vicar.
These days, everyone goes to the bathroom. Someone took the music out of the language.
Noreen was always thinking up new ideas, and this time she had come up with something brilliant. She had a man install floor to ceiling one-way glass in her toilet.
Noreen could sit there, comfortably enthroned, and survey the world. She could see out, and no one could see in. What a dazzling idea!
Outside the window was a busy road. It was always interesting to watch the traffic and pedestrians go by. She imagined all sorts of destinations and conversations. Beyond the road was an expansive valley, and beyond that loomed imposing mountains. Things were always different; ever changing. The weather made the scene a chameleon, forever mutating colours. The temptation was to sit there for too long. But goodness me!
Of course at night, with the toilet light on, and it being dark outside, Noreen couldn’t see a thing. But at night, people seemed so much friendlier; every second car seemed to give a friendly toot. And pedestrians passing by were always full of laughter.
Jocelyn had always envied those who won the silver platter at the annual village greyhound racing derby. Every year, for the past eleven years, she had entered a dog in the premiere race and not won a thing. This year it was going to be different. She had prepared for this race for more than two years.
An unfortunate thing, however, was that when her new greyhound puppy was born she named it Toilet. Some people have no idea if you ask me. It was a cruel name; even for a dog. But Toilet it was. Jocelyn insisted. How pathetic is that?
Fourteen dogs lined up at the start line, including Toilet. Off they went! Toilet was lagging behind the other thirteen.
“GO TOILET!” screamed Jocelyn.
All thirteen opposition stopped to do their business. Toilet raced ahead.
Jocelyn took the silver platter home. She changed her dog’s name to Victorius.
It was outrageous. Once again the toilet seat had been left up by some thoughtless male. For the second time that day, the toilet seat had to be put down before it could be sat on. Why can’t males think of others for a change and put the seat down after they finish? It was typical of men not to think of the woman in the house.
And then there was Ramona. She was maddening. She always put the toilet seat up after using it. She claimed that she put it down to use, but put the seat back up to be nice to the men in the house. It meant that Harry had to put the seat down not just after the other two men in the house but after Ramona as well. In fact, Harry would frequently go to the bathroom just to put the seat down. He was forever thinking of others.
Come on guys: always leave the seat down. Think of others for a change. Women (except for Ramona) always think of others and leave the seat down.
You’ve no idea! When Lester goes to the toilet it stinks the whole house out! Whiff! Open the windows! I’ve told him to use the spray, and of course he does, but it still stinks the whole house out.
He’s ten times worse than all the other grandchildren. Of course, we love to have him stay, but once a day he stinks the whole house out. It’s unbelievable. It’s funny how some people are like that and others aren’t. It’s not that he eats anything different from the others. It must be his metabolism.
I don’t know how his mother copes with the three kids, and having Lester – he’s the oldest – stink the whole house out. And their house is so small. Having an outhouse like in the olden days wasn’t such a bad idea. They should get one!
Of course, if you strike a match in the lavatory it can burn up the methane and diminish the stench. But I’m not leaving a box of matches in the toilet when the grandkids come to stay. The next thing they’ll be playing with matches and burn the whole house down.
So in the meantime, we’ve simply got to put up with letting Lester stink the whole house out.
Anyway, Letitia, that’s enough about me. How are your grandkids?