Can’t slam this feeling of bliss
Many things come and go from our house that I have had very little to do with choosing. Books being one exception that comes to mind. New chairs, sofas, rugs, dishes and even pets my partner has chosen.
It is about time to say publicly that she does an outstanding job. She provides us with a beautiful home and wonderful pets and for that I thank her. This does not mean that I don’t sometime wonder about a chosen “thing”.
Once upon a time I wrote in this column about alligators in our beaver pond, but that was fiction. If I survived such a sighting, I would have to say seeing such a creature in our back yard would be very unusual, highly noticeable and scary.
So, too, are toilet seats in the dining room. When I discovered two of them next to our dining table, I had to ask, “Toilet seats in the living room?”
Susan looked up from her reading. Of all the response I could imagine she’d make, what she said next was not one of them.
“Yes, they are No-slam toilet seats.”
I was speechless and starting to feel a bit like Lee Child’s Jack Reacher character whose favorite response is to say nothing. Oh, if being Reacher were only that easy. (For those of you unfamiliar, Jack Reacher is the main character in Child’s very thrilling stories.)
Finally, I said. “You’re kidding.” In case this was taken wrongly, I laughed, although I was not expecting to hear her say she really was.
Susan said, “The seats will resist pressure when you put them down. You can’t slam them.”
I must point out that she never doubted I would put the seat down. Had you assumed that I as a guy don’t put toilet seats down, you’d be wrong.
I wish I could sing my praises, but the truth is I can’t. If the seat is left up our cat, Charlie, plays in the water. I don’t like his black hair all over the rim of the bowl.
I think we should have bred Charlie. We could have marketed his offspring to encourage toilet seats going down. Alas, he has been fixed. Oh, the opportunities we have ignored!
Now that Susan has installed the seats (giving credit to where credit’s due), I have designated the downstairs seat as part of my exercise program. Its resistance is irresistible.
It has created problems though. When I am out visiting someone for lunch, most of the restaurants have not progressed to our level. As a result, I am slamming seats right and left. Charlie has trained me well, but now it’s becoming embarrassing.
I have also started to spend more money on clothes. What this has to do with no-slam seats I haven’t figured out yet, but I like to assign reasons to what I do and the seats remain suspect.
Since no slams are the biggest recent change, why else would I be buying more clothes? Kind of pathetic. No-change toilet seats the biggest change in my life and the number one suspect for why I buy new clothes. As long as the Red Sox continue their winning ways, I will get over it. Living vicariously.
I still wonder why Susan was motivated to buy them. Was I slamming seats? I don’t think so. Then again, it’s probably not all about me, and for this reason, I nominate no-slams as bliss.
Bob Ritchie is pastor of Bennington Congregational Church and a regular contributor.