Should one think, as one were leaving the house to head to Home Depot in the wind and sleet, that perhaps it might be a good idea to measure one’s toilet just in case toilet seats come in different sizes, one would be wise not to dismiss that idea.
Why the hell do toilet seats have sizes??
Round, oblong, seat depth. These weren’t even the parameters I had in mind; if I had bothered to measure anything, it would have been the distance between the holes at the back of the seat.
But, I didn’t.
So, instead, I make it to Home Depot, in the wind and the sleet, carry the Magpie in and through to the back of the store where the toilet seats live. Because this took place early on a Friday morning, the store was populated with me, the Magpie and a bunch of contractors. Yeah. Me, the Magpie, and people who knew what they were doing. And who probably got a good snort over a woman in soaking wet sneakers with a diaper bag over one arm and a baby in the other. staring slack-jawed at the wall – yes, an entire wall – of toilet seats.
Oh, and they also come in colours. I know better than to buy pink or green, but how the hell am I supposed to know if my toilet is off-white, sandstone or snow? What inane toilet company personnel makes these decisions?
In the end, I chose one based on price [middle of the road] and accessibility. No way was I going for one stacked on the floor or above my head.
And, thank god, it fit. Because, after that, I wasn’t going to be the one to go back and exchange it. Which means that I would have had to learn to pee standing up.