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2003-02-09 - 12:31 p.m.

THE GREAT TOILET CONTEST

Love and rivalry have always been linked in our marriage. Although we are in the same profession, we do not compete professionally. At home, however, competition is just fine. We often play word games of all sorts. Sometimes one wins, sometimes the other. We just relish the game. But some of our contests are not quite as friendly. So it is with the Great Toilet Contest.

We agree that the toilet in our bathroom needs its guts replaced. We agree that either of us is capable of fixing it. We even have agreed that Mr. Philately should be the one to replace them. What we haven�t agreed upon is in which century he should accomplish this feat. And therein lies the contest.

As I recall, the issue first came up in the last century. Then, it wasn�t a pressing issue. Yes, the toilet�s secret places were disintegrating but they still had some life left. Now, however, it�s time for a Do Not Resuscitate order. We�ve rebent the clip and rehooked it to the little thing that I have trouble seeing so many times that the chain itself is disintegrating. We�ve cleaned seals for flappers and other such. We�ve bent piece A so it will connect with piece B as it used to. Enough is enough. No more band-aids. No more constantly wondering whether it will flush this time. It�s time for radical surgery.

When it refuses to flush for me, it often seems that I am dressed up. I�m removing a suit jacket and rolling up sleeves of a good sweater to cope. Mr. Philately usually is just in jeans and a shirt. Besides, I have short arms and end up in the cold water almost to my armpit. He just gets a bit of his forearm wet. No wonder he has not yet grasped the seriousness of the situation.

The question lies in how to win this contest. I like to win the word games but I don�t need to win the word games. I NEED to win the Great Toilet Contest and I NEED to win it today. I�d try buying the replacement pieces but we already have the replacement pieces. We�ve had the replacement pieces for months. Possibly, we�ve had the replacement pieces for years.

No, drastic measures are needed. If I weren�t working with Day-Hay on her science fair project today, I�d just go start the job. If I did that, I�m not sure whether I would have won or lost but I suppose I could define the outcome anyway I wanted. After all, if I can flush consistently, I�ve won, haven�t I?

I�d consider calling Mr. Philately at work every time the thing fails to work but I already had to call him once when I could not figure out how to gerry-rig the broken piece of the month. Apparently, he doesn�t mind being called at work for such things. I can just hear him now, commiserating with some other male attorney in his office building about the irritating things wives do.

No, something more dramatic is necessary if I want that toilet fixed before I die. I�ve considered pouring cold water on him every time I have to go up to my armpits in cold water. I almost did it this morning but he was standing in Day-Hay�s room and I didn�t believe she deserved a icy cold, wet spot on the carpet in her room. I�ve considered banishing him to the girls� bathroom but I can�t figure out how I�d enforce that and, besides, why should they suffer? More importantly, I�D then have to fix the toilet because he�d have no incentive at all.

Hmmmm......I wonder if he�d like to sleep in the bathtub tonight. Desperate times require desperate measures. And I intend to win this Great Toilet Contest.

LAST YEAR: Keeping Those Scarves in the Air

LAST FIVE ENTRIES:

Hair-Curling
Weather Watch
Far From the Home I Love
Columbia
Leveled

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