A Throwback

I'm going retro. It's very chic right now and I think I'm going to join the party and re-popularize the outhouse. Yes, that's correct, the o-u-t-h-o-u-s-e. It's truly a fantastic invention. It accomplishes a much needed purpose while removing unnecessary unpleasantness from daily life. Don't worry, I would modernize it with running water, a sink, an automatic soap dispenser, a drain in the floor, and a locking lid. Or maybe, I could just get the toilets I have outfitted with a locking lid?

Let me explain: two weeks ago bathroom gremlins cast a terrible curse on us resulting in more toilet mishaps than we've had in the last six years. The soggy saga began one morning when I was doing chores and trying to unpack. McKenzie and Harper were giggling and bumping around together, working hard to get into mischief. I unpacked an entire box before realizing the house was impishly quiet and I hadn't said "no" or "don't touch your sister" for several minutes, a sure sign something undesirable is underfoot.

Off I went in search of them. The front rooms were quiet, the hall bedrooms were silent, and there was no one in the guest bathroom. I dashed to the master bedroom- not in the closet, not under the bed. All that was left was the master bathroom. They weren't in the shower and the linen closet was empty. Then I heard little laughs coming from inside the water closet. Yanking open the door, I found Harper dunking a stuffed animal in and out of the toilet, chortling with delight. McKenzie was just standing there, "watching," she said, "to make sure Harper didn't get hurt." Ahhh...life is beautiful!

A few days later we had an impromptu Costco pizza party at Fairview with my side of the family. We were sitting around telling stories after dinner when I noticed Harper toddling around with a white dripping wet... piece of something. I grabbed her and dashed down the hall. Sure enough, the bathroom door was open and toilet paper was festively draped into the commode, sparkling drops of water were decorating the seat and floor, trailing down the hall and out into the family room. Bleach!

I'm going to decoupage a plaque that reads-
Welcome to our bathroom. Leaving the door open could cause your demise.

Even that sign wouldn't have prevented the final episode of the saga which occurred 24 hours later, a result of the culturally-pervasive "energy efficient" movement. First, a little background: after getting the keys to Fairview, we replaced the old commodes with high efficiency/low water use units. I'm beginning to think they are really low efficiency/high water use as many times as they have to be flushed.

Anyway, I was gone all day Saturday and returned at 5 that evening to discover another disaster. Poor McKenzie had inadvertently used too much toilet paper and clogged the low water use commode. It revenged itself by highly efficiently overflowing and I was greeted with a bucket, Clorox, and rubber gloves. Why, oh why, oh why?

Underneath the plaque, I'm adding an addendum on correct facility usage, or maybe it would be better to teach a crash course.

Welcome to our home, please step this way for your very own class on the proper OSHA method of using our restroom.

Not very inviting is it? I'd rather go old school and re-popularize the outhouse. What's not to like- everything outside, away from the baby, where overflows can be cleaned up with a hose? Plus, I would never have to run a mad dash doing door checks, I wouldn't have to teach a commode usage class, and I could re-purpose the space for something else entirely- like a private sanitarium.