[In which I type for five straight minutes stopping only when the timer goes ding]
We’re getting a new toilet.
Let me say that again: WE’RE GETTING A NEW TOILET!
Yes, I’m unabashedly excited. It’s gonna be an eco thing, the toilet. Uses less water. Mixes in some air. Flushing with pride we will be.
When do you get to the age when new appliances and things like toilets become very, very exciting? I’ve been there for awhile. Oh, I’ll be honest — I think I’ve always loved that stuff.
But this, the place where we are sometimes at our most alone, will be new.
For about 16 years, I dealt with the poo of two cats.
This is not inspiring, the act of scooping another animal’s refuse. At best, it was demoralizing, and since both those beasts have gone to the great catnip in the sky, I have announced, repeatedly, NEVER AGAIN.
This is a post about poo. Sorry.
But from a female perspective, it’s not something we’re raised to be able to talk about, never mind do in public. The lengths women will go to make their poo stealth is unreasonable. There are places in the world where you can play a tune in the stall to cover The Sounds.
The sounds everyone makes. The sounds that immediately remind us – we’re all in it together. Which is why I firmly