The Bathroom Drama, Part 2: I had to laugh July 13, 2008 19:04 2 Comments

CadetI beg your indulgence once more, kind and generous readers, for the bathroom drama continued today. I was reading Diana: Her True Story (I know. I should be embarrassed to publicly admit reading such a biography. Yet . . . ) and sipping iced coffee through a straw. (Again, I admit this willingly. No one is sticking bamboo slivers underneath my fingernails.) I was thoroughly enjoying my Sunday.

Suddenly, I heard hubby yell words that I shall not repeat here, as his dear momma reads this blog with some regularity (bathroom pun accidental). Since he was installing the toilet we purchased yesterday, a beautiful and elegant model by Kohler, I ignored his first outburst. However, my curiosity got the better of me over his next string of expletives. It seems the Memoirs (isn't that a tony name for such a utilitarian device?) was too deep for the space. Yes, the door would swing shut. It would. But a cramped feeling would doubtless ensue, if not overwhelm, once the door closed. And, let’s face it: One spends too much time on that particular seat to be cramped if it can be avoided.

So. Off we motored to Home Depot, where we exchanged our Memoirs model for a shallower American Standard model, the Cadet 3. (Memoirs. Cadet. Memoirs. Cadet. Memoirs. Cadet. Mmmmm. . . Which is the better name? You decide.) Now, let me muse here, please: Why would a company name a product after a student who attends military school? Is this a decorating motif that I have missed? A motif that Elle Décor and House Beautiful have overlooked as well? But American Standard apparently believes this is a decorating look to strive for. Their description of the Cadet: "A timeless look you’d expect to find at an academy." Well, perhaps. But what about the wayward urine spatters?

And the day got even better. Really. We returned home with our new timeless toilet. And oh joy! It fit. I returned to the travails of Lady Di, who never once, I feel sure, had to fret about such a mundane thing as whether a toilet fit into a small space. His Bertness returned to his DIY project. I won’t bore you with all the details. But. He had to return to the hardware store TWICE before I heard the sound of flushing.

Lest you think I spent the entire day in bed with iced coffee and Andrew Morton, I’ll have you know that I went to church, did the dishes, filed (I get gold stars for that) and cooked dinner. So there. And tomorrow, I’ll get back to fashion, sewing, the good stuff. I promise.

You know, the new toilet isn't half bad. And there's not a single spatter on it.