How many of you like cleaning the bathroom? More specifically, how many of you relish scrubbing the toilet bowl? While I abhor the task, I’m delighted with the end product, the sparkling, sanitized, glistening human waste receptacle. I know. I know. TMI. “Too much information,” for those without a young adult in your lives, who often reminds that too much honesty is unnecessary, and totally unwanted!
I can’t help but remember that wonderful 50’s commercial where a little man in a suit seated in a small boat, floated around on the water in a toilet bowl, talking about the best product for cleaning the inside of the bowl. How clever! Although I’m sure as a kid I was more enthralled with the small man fitting in the toilet, than how my mom or older sister was going to get it clean. Eventually “Mr. Clean“ took over from “Mr. Tidy Bowl” in the 70’s and 80’s. By that time I did care what to use, because I was the one having to clean the d–n toilet, and have been doing so ever since. Actually, I lie. Besides hubby helping out once-in-while, there was a time when my husband employed a housecleaner while I lived with my daughter in another state, where she was training to be a professional ballerina.
When I returned home, my initial plan was to resume doing all the housework myself. But then I quickly came to my senses, and retained Lucy’s services. After all, she did a far better job than I ever did. With her caring for the inside of the house every couple of weeks, I devoted my time to gardening and my antiques business. But my stint in Nirvana was short-lived when Lucy returned to Brazil, her home, for back surgery. To this day I’m still singing her praises.
More than any other product Comet was the cleaner I used the longest. Doing what my mom did, I’d sprinkle the gritty powder into the toilet bowl, and with a sponge I’d put some elbow grease into my hand as it swished around in all the nooks and crannies, getting out all the grime and yuck. Once again, TMI. But those were the olden days when wives and moms meant business, doing fierce battle with dirt, in hand-to-hand combat, literally.
Now that I’m older, and wiser, I use a biodegradable, lavender-scented cleanser which I sprinkle into the bowl, and with a stylish, long-handled brush, I get the job done in a more civilized manner. With a few scrubs here and there, and a press of the little toilet handle, yesterday’s grime is history. I’m no longer down on my knees in subservience to the bowl. It is now subservient to me…and my toilet brush. And of course it has a cute little receptacle of its own where it comfortably rests, until the next time. From a lofty height…
i now look down upon my toilet bowl…and that’s as it should be…hugmamma.
I was dying on my lunch break and then I discovered your blog article. This was so attention grabbing that I was late in coming back to work. Can’t wait to email this with my colleagues!
Sorry you were late for work! ha, ha. Thanks for sharing this with others, and glad you enjoyed it. 🙂
Hugmamma, you just made me realize how much I like my toilet brush too! 😀 Haha enjoyed reading this post, TMI or not 😉
You get my off-beat sense of humor. Thank you!
glad i made you pause to acknowledge your admiration for an invaluable friend…the hard-working toilet brush…ha, ha…hugmamma. 😉
I love poetry and I really enjoy reading your blog. Thanks for sharing this post. Feel free to stop by sometime.
Raining Purple Rain
Thanks! I checked out your blog. Looks interesting and useful. Guess you’re trying to get the word out. Good luck and keep blogging…hugmamma. 🙂