i’m not going to complain about the fact that i had to leave early this morning to go and pick up the civic at the honda dealer.
i’m not going to complain about the fact that doing this caused me to be late for work. and i hate to be late.
i’m not going to complain about the fact that i had to fill up the van yesterday and the civic this morning.
and i’m not even going to complain about the fact that i had to sing dora songs over and over and over and over while we waited for daddy (“where dadda go??”) to come out of the dealership.
what i AM going to complain about is my wet ass. i can not sit on a toilet seat in my house without sitting on someone’s pee. There really is not a worse feeling. (well…guess if you sit on a public toilet seat and get some stranger’s pee on your ass…but, you see, i don’t sit on public toilet seats.)
i should be able to sit on a toilet in my own home.
there are two people to blame here. the husband and the boy. neither one will lift the seat. and clearly neither one has this right anymore (with the boy it’s his aim that’s the problem, and with the husband, it’s the splash-back. i don’t freakin’ care what it is…i’m tired of having a wet ass). yes, i understand. the boy is lazy and the husband doesn’t want to touch the toilet seat. but, let me tell you what, i’d rather touch a toilet seat than sit on pee.