Inasmuch as I have endeavored to be of service to my fellow man, and inasmuch as I have used this medium towards that end, I herewith seek to address a controversy that has befallen those of us in civil society since the year 1596. You may recall that was the year Mr. John Harrington (an Englishman) invented the flush-able toilet. A side note: a lot of people think Thomas Crapper (also an Englishman) invented it. Mr. Crapper did manage to get his name forever attached to the flush-able toilet. There’s an explanation for it in Wikipedia©. A common version of this story is that American servicemen stationed in England during World War I saw his name on cisterns made by his company and used it as army slang, i.e. “I’m going to the crapper”. Sounds better than I’m going to the Harrington. Well, it does to me….
No, the controversy I allude to has nothing to do with names or origins. It has everything to do with two questions. The first one is “toilet seat up or down?” This is, without fail, the first argument in every marriage (makes you wonder what newlyweds fought about prior to 1596, doesn’t it?). Without exception, every wife wants the seat down and every husband wants the seat up. Many a night’s sleep has been interrupted by a misplaced “crapper crown.” The ladies in the house do not want to forget the seat is up in the middle of the night and wind up “in” the toilet and the men want a larger space for aiming purposes. That’s the argument at least though I fail to see feminine logic in this. The reason should be obvious.
The second argument has to do with the installation of the toilet paper in the dispenser. That debate rages on though there seems to be no rhyme or reason from either side of the bed. It would seem there are some who want the paper installed in its dispenser so that the paper comes out on top and some who insist that it be pulled from the bottom. For the life of me, I cannot see the logic for having toilet paper removed over the top though the wife would disagree in the strongest of terms. This discussion has gone on and off again for the majority of our almost thirty-eight years of wedded bliss. I have even gone so far as suggesting that we install his and her dispensers though that was met with vigorous opposition. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to know.
These questions have gone unresolved for four hundred and twenty years and there seems no end of the matter. I do not foresee any resolution in the future either. The reality is: You’re