The Toilet Seat Fight

The toilet seat fight between me and Samuel started a few days ago. We are staying at my parents’ brand new house, where we are lucky enough to have pretty much a whole apartment to ourselves. I won’t lie, it is really nice and relaxing to actually have something that comes close to being our space (instead of sharing tiny hotel rooms) and to indulge in everyday activities such as fighting over toilet seats for a change.


In my defense, I have never understood the fight over the toilet seat up or down question (who cares if it is up or down, it’s just a little motion to put it back up or down?!) … until now. As my parents have decided that at age 65 they need a top notch high tech house with intelligent design where everything needs a remote to work, they didn’t think twice when they bought the ultra modern self-sinking toilet seats (yes, that DOES exist). As advanced as this invention might be, the self-sinking process takes about 30 seconds to one minute to be completed and under no circumstances are you allowed to touch the seat, disturb the process or, worse, try to spped it up (yes, I am very aware at how ridiculous that sounds).

So here comes the issue: After Sam uses the bathroom and leaves the toilet seat up, and I need to use the bathroom next, I have to wait for one minute for this technical hygienic miracle to come back down again so I can actually use it. While this might sound very trivial, if you really really have to go – it is not! That’s why I decided to put up a little reminder note for Sam to remember to initiate the sinking process after he is done using the toilet.


Clearly, I must have crossed some line of manliness there, as never as much as raised an eyebrow at it. However, each time I go back to the bathroom (with the seat in the upward position!!!), the note has disappeared. I know he has been hiding it. So I look for it and put it back up – only to find it gone again the next time around. This has been going on for several days now, and no peace agreement is in sight yet.

Until now our fights were about whether we’d stay in Mexico for three or two months, or we would disagree about the right way to pack a backpack. So I wonder, is fighting over self-sinking toilet seats something other couples do, too, or is this just our way of dealing with the unknown, a.k.a. living in an apartment? Let’s just say, if we ever decide to get our own home at some point, it will have good old fashioned toilet seats!

P.S. I would have never thought that I’d use the words self-sinking and toilet that many times in one blog post …

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