all’s well that ends well

(or The Great Toilet Seat Caper)

When we bought our house in 1997, Terry and I agreed that I would get the loft office and the master bath, and that she would get the walk-in closet and separate full bath. That has worked out marvelously.

One of the results of that is that she rarely uses my toilet, which is a WC off of the master bath. (When people ask us if we go camping our answer is that our idea of roughing it is sharing a bathroom. As in the San Jose Fairmont, for example, or in our stateroom on the Island Princess cruise ship in Alaska.) Terry did have occasion to use my WC some months back. She declared that I needed a new toilet seat. It seemed fine to me, but I wasn’t going to argue.

Terry bought and installed one. (How we roll is that she does hardware and I do software.) It never worked out. One bolt was always loose and could never be tightened properly. Last week it became especially loose and I asked Terry to take a look. She observed that both of the plastic hinges were broken completely.

wcShe went out and bought a new toilet seat and installed that. The seat was padded, which was nice, but the lid would not stay up. Being of the male persuasion, having a toilet seat that stays up is important. Last Wednesday I had come back from seeing my spiritual director up in Santa Clara, some thirty miles away. We have been meeting via iPad FaceTime since my company closed the campus where I had my cubicle, but last week pretty much everyone was either on vacation or off at the big annual show, so I took the opportunity to see her in person. When I got home my bladder was demanding attention and the toilet seat would not stay up. I was pretty aggravated.

I had pulled the receipt for the toilet seat out of the trash, but Terry did not want to return it. I snarled at her in a way that was way out of line, but Terry got it that the matter needed attention. She did a toilet seat inspection and test and agreed that it was not suitable for my bathroom, and said that she would use it in hers. I went out to find a replacement, which had to a) have a seat that would stay up (of course) and b) have metal hinges and fasteners, not plastic. I’m not a big fan of Home Depot, but there I found a no-slam seat with metal parts and a no-loosen guarantee. Perfect. I brought it home and Terry did the swap.

In doing all of this I noticed that the rug in my WC was rectangular, and not contoured for the toilet as in our other bathrooms.  Now this had been the case for many, many years, but I never thought much about it. I realized, after all this time, that there was no reason for my bare feet to be on the cold tiles before getting in the shower or in the middle of the night, when they could be on a warm rug. So I took my trusty Bed Bath & Beyond 20% off coupons and found a contoured rug and matching cover.

Now everything is fine, and we’re both pleased with the updated setup.

The cliché that comes from the Shakespeare play title has become a truism so that we often don’t even hear it any longer. But it is correct:

All’s well that ends well.

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