The great toilet crisis
It was going to be a simple fix (like all home projects). But when I broke out the hammer and chisel trying to get a rusted bolt off a porcelain toilet, I knew I was now firmly in risky territory.
My wife hears the clink clink coming from the bathroom and catches a glimpse of the tools in my hands.
“Be careful,” she says.
“I know, I know...”
My kids keep coming in and out of the bathroom to sneak a peek at what I am up to. The simple goal had been to install a “slow-close” toilet seat that wouldn’t smash their little fingers when they closed it. I carefully tap some more on the chisel.
Clink—clink—clink—CRACK.
Oh no.
Immediately I saw a hairline fracture running down through the toilet bowl (and subsequently through my very heart). I had done it. I cracked my toilet.
My 5 year-old son who was in his orange construction vest and yellow hard hat understands the gravity of the situation with us being a one-toilet household. “Dad, this is an emergency! What are we going to do?”
I’m not sure when everybody started laughing but somehow we went from crisis to comedy. Like it was so serious that it became hilarious.
At Lowe’s that night, I had 10 minutes to choose a toilet before the store closed. They were all twice the price I expected.
No Clog-Guarantee, promised one of them. This toilet can flush a bucket of golf balls!
At $249, I laughed at it and dismissed it in my mind. Not only was it overkill, it was overpriced!
An associate who saw me evaluating their lineup of thrones asked if I needed any help.
“Yes, thanks,” I replied. “I’m looking for something in between this golf-ball toilet and the cheapest thing you’ve got.”
We eventually settled on the Danville, a respectable middle-priced choice. With the help of a friend, the great toilet crisis was solved by 11 o’clock that night.
Until 2 months later.
My kids keep stuffing toys, toothbrushes, and humungous wads of toilet paper down the toilet. Danville struggles against the onslaught of toddler choices until it can barely flush anymore, even when I’ve fully unclogged it. Eventually, it raises the white flag. It couldn’t stand up to the demands. On my way to the store that night, I drive with purpose. And as I walk into Lowe’s, I know in my mind exactly where I’m going.
I’m going to aisle 34 on the left hand side to procure for my family a toilet that can flush a bucket of golf balls. And when I arrive, the God of toilets has drawn near to me: this here golf-ball toilet is on sale.