The Toilet Seat

I haven't actually blogged about this yet because I'm hesitant to post a story that even mentions the word "tampons." But here it is. This post will mention the word "tampons." I'll limit my use of the word "tampons" to only twice, however, so don't be afraid. If, however, you find that the word "tampons" makes you pink just to read, then I suggest that you read someone else's blog that has nothing to do with "tampons."

When Perv and I moved into this apartment (Perv, you remember, is The Boy's new name), he announced to me that as long as I never left any tampons in the toilet, then he'd never leave the toilet seat up.

"I've never had a problem leaving tampons in the toilet, Perv," I said.

"I'm really good about putting the toilet seat down," said Perv.

And so it was. I would make sure that my feminine products were properly flushed and he would put the toilet seat down.

Except that he didn't. He would always leave it up. There was a time when I was sorely tempted to deliberately not take care of certain feminine products, but that's just sick and wrong and I could never bring myself to do it. Finally, I started mentioning it to Perv.

Cicada: You know, if you don't start putting the toilet seat up, I'm going to have to stop doing what I said I'd always do.

Perv: I always put the toilet seat down.

Cicada: I find it up on a regular basis.

Perv: Well, Mishkin is over here quite often. I bet he's leaving it up.

Cicada: That's ridiculous. Mishkin is OCD and anal retentive. He spent forty minutes arranging our spice cupboard. He deliberately broke a plate so that we could have an even number of small plates in the house. He has not been leaving the toilet seat up.

Since then, any time I've found the toilet seat up, I've called it to Perv's attention, and suggested that maybe Mishkin was actually responsible:

"Perv! It's 8:00 a.m. and the toilet seat is up! Did you invite Mishkin over last night without my knowledge?"

I'll be even better now that Mishkin is going to Indonesia. I'll curse his name every time I find the toilet seat up. Wherever he is, whatever he's doing, it's probably all his fault.

13 comments:

Coop said...

I used to get all freaked out at just the mention of chick products. Even when we were first married, I still didn't want to hear about it. Then my wife got pregnant and it was all over. I have no shame when it comes to anything femininish.

Remembering poor Former Coworker Molested by Santa, the only thing he hated more than "chatty girls who use work time as if it were Relief Society" was all of the pregnancy talk that was going on around here for a time. Every time anyone mentioned anything having to do with being pregnant anywhere in the office I would get an IM telling me how bad life sucked.

Oh, I miss Molested by Santa.

ambrosia ananas said...

Tee hee hee. So many happy things here. *That's* why Mishkin broke a plate. It's really, really funny. And just imagining your interactions with The Boy (I refuse to call him that awful name) makes me giggle.

Also, Molested by Santa is a fantastic name. And I bet he hated me because I'm the biggest blabbermouth in the office.

daltongirl said...

I think you should start leaving tampons in the toilet and blame Mishkin. Then sit back and watch Perv's head explode.

My s-in-law told me that when daltonboy's sisters were youth, they weren't allowed to keep any feminine products in the bathroom. They had to hide them in their rooms and take them in as needed. So when she married daltonboy's brother, he insisted that she keep the stuff hidden. I guess he didn't want to see a box or anything, because it would remind him that she was a woman of childbearing age. THAT didn't last long. Funny thing is that daltonboy doesn't have any hangups at all.

Nemesis said...

I imagine daltonboy didn't have any hangups left, given the kind of stuff his ex probably kept in there.

daltongirl said...

You make a good point, Nem. I guess a box of tampons is small game when you've had to wade through all your wife's drugs and porn and boyfriend's underwear and stuff to get to the toilet.

Stupidramblings said...

Two things my honey bunny knows I will not do. Unconditionally.

I will NOT hold her purse.

I will NOT make an emergency run to the store to buy ONLY feminine products. I WILL buy feminine products, but only if they are on the grocery list wedged between manly items like BBQ grill cleaner and loofahs. (loophahs?)

Anyway, and notwithstanding my rule, I will NOT pay attention to brand, quality, packaging or any other characteristic when I pick them up. I just go down the aisle and stick my arm out like a hook and let whatever product may be fall into my cart. THAT's what she has to use.

Stupidramblings said...

Oh and EEEWWWWW!

Master Fob said...

As an innocent fifteen-year-old new-driver's-license-holder (yeah, we drive at fifteen in Hawaii), I was initiated into the world of Buying Feminine Products for my older sisters, and I am none the worse for it.

Oh, wait. Maybe I am. Please, for the Boy/Perv's sake, spare him the sight of all products even remotely feminine.

Coop said...

Brozy: he had no problem with you. It was the girls across the office--the ones who would giggle their heads off anytime that kid with a spanish accent would speak. He wanted to knock some of their heads.

I would rather buy tampons than loofas. I feel like less of a man just saying the word.

gregory hines said...

Leaving the seat up? Isn't it supposed to be up? Why don't you just put the seat down when you want to sit on it? I'm a little confused why it's your brother's responsibility to put the seat in the down position.
He's going to have to lift it up again after everytime you want it down, right?
...only seems fair.

Stupidramblings said...

I, like all of my tap dancing brothers, MUST agree with Gregory Hines--on principal alone.

And coop:

You show your true colors when you confidently write 'loofahs' in your post. I wrote 'loofahs (loophahs?)' in my post so everyone would KNOW I was just using the word for effect.

You, I don't know about.

Cicada said...

Wow. I generated a whole comment stream of toilet talk. I knew I had that coming. To answer your question, G.H., when I moved in with Perv, I considered what exactly my take on the whole toilet seat issue was. Would I require that my brother leave the seat down? Would I nag him and get after him if I didn't? Ultimately, I came to the same conclusion that you did---that it was just as much effort for me to flip it down than it is for him to flip it up (actually, less effort to flip it down).

But if you reread the post, it was Perv who proclaimed in the first place that he would leave it down. So for me, it's more a battle of "This is what you said you'd do and this is what you said you don't have a problem with at all, and yet this is what reality is."

As far as buying tampons goes, I have girl friends who refuse to buy just tampons---they have to buy other things if they're buying tampons because they feel that if they just buy the tampons, there's this implied, "HURRY!!"

Nemesis said...

Tell me about it. You haven't lived till you've taken a box of ibuprofin, a box of super-absorbency tampons, and a box of Kotex liners to the register as your complete purchase.

There is always a very attractive man ringing up my stuff at those times, rather than a nice grandma figure who will throw in a Snickers bar just because she figures I need it.