I spent four days in the 'Ville for the holidays, hanging with Pops, watching football, listening to mildly insane theories about Republicans, Charismatic Catholics and the Pittsburgh Steelers. All part of the family charm.
On day two, while visiting my one of my father's many bathrooms (and by many, I mean two) I came to the conclusion he was in desperate need of a new toilet seat. My Dad has one of those padded seats for a little extra comfort during life's quality moments. Hey, who can blame him?
But his current padded seat had been installed sometime in 1991. It had seen a lot of action over the years and was just worn down. There were some rips. To be blunt, if you happen to sit the wrong way, it was like taking a crap on an open box of steak knives.
"Dad, I should have gotten you a new toilet seat for Christmas," I exclaimed with a fright.
"Oh, I've got one. I just can't get it put on cause of my knees."
After a huge meal and a 90-minute nap and a football game and a Seinfeld marathon, I leapt into action. I was well prepared with pliers, several screwdrivers and that things that holds the other thingies in place on the watchmacallit. It was exhausting, the turning and the holding and the unscrewing.
But I did it. That's right. I fixed something. In the bathroom. My Dad now relieves himself with a newfound peace. Heck, I spent a couple hours just hanging out on this newly installed wonder.
This makes it official: I'm handy, mofos.
3 comments:
congrats! way better than taking a crap on an open box of steak knives. WHEN you visit the beach, you can try out my stainless steel toilet seat. okay, just the lid is stainless, the seat is plastic. but it is badass. That's right, my toilet seat rocks.
so proud.
we have a torn padded seat cover, too. i feel your pain.
gross.
Surprised you didn't eat, watch the game, and Seinfeld marathon from the toilet.
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