I’ll never make a housekeeper. I have repeated this statement many times. I don’t have a regular routine in place to carry out my duties. I just do what I can when I feel like it. Now that feeling of wanting to do it does not come over me very often. I had a wave of it this week.
I bloody regret it now!
In most modern homes now there is more than one toilet. I get it. Everyone wants an ensuite. Then you have to have one for the other miniature terrorists in the house. In our modern inclusive society you now have to have a toilet downstairs to make the home wheelchair friendly. Obviously I have no issue with that.
Do you know what springs to mind when I think of three toilets?
Work, work and more work.
In the midst of my cleaning wave this week the toilets are the rooms I turned my attention to. All I can say is boys are disgusting. Neither of them will be any good at sports because their aim is sadly absent. I’m half thinking of getting them tested because their spatial awareness is way off.
I cleaned the three toilets and the only one that didn’t make me want to pull it out of the wall with my bare hands and replace it was the one in my ensuite because the kids rarely use it. There was urine splattered everywhere. The skirting board in the downstairs toilet looked like some sort of modern art installation. It was just vile.
So I gave the lads a quick lesson in how to get their wee into the toilet bowl. I began by telling them that they needed to pull up the toilet seat to avoid peeing on it and leaving it wet for the person who would follow after them. They argued why couldn’t the seat be left up and that if someone wanted to sit on it they could put it down?
I had to explain that that’s just not how it’s done.
I don’t know how or when or who made the rules but the toilet seat’s default position is down……. just deal with it.
Then I asked them to pee so I could watch their technique and give them pointers. The youngest started I could see nothing wrong with what he was doing until he turned to look at me for approval and like a drunk man riding a bike when he turned is head is willy followed and it went everywhere. I was screeching, in the toilet in the toilet, and he was clueless.
The eldest lad was up and his problem was he liked to see how close he could get to the top of the bowl without spilling out. Well you don’t even need me to fill in those gaps! We had more conversation about toilet etiquette and they agreed to try and be better and I agreed to try and provide more than one roll of toilet paper that gets shouted for, by whoever is dropping the baby off in the pool.
So the moral of the story is I need to clean my toilets more often.
Also that little boys are really gross.
I’m not looking forward to the teenage years when other bodily fluids come into play but that’s a conversation for another night.