Poopy Talk

I’ve realized that my wife and I have bathroom conversations. And, since this is the blog about what a man and a woman think about when they’re in the bathroom, I thought I’d share.

We don’t often talk in the bathroom. This is difficult, naturally, because the size and the shape are prohibitive. (I mean the size and shape of the bathroom, not of us. Although, our size and shape prohibits us from many things.) But, we do talk about the bathroom.

As I’ve mentioned, and, as my wife has nagged about, I spend a lot of time in there. And, I do love the bathroom. I like a small, cozy spot to do my business. (Nevermind that my legs always fall asleep.) However, the one dislike that I have is, no matter how warm it is outside, the porcelain is always as cold as ice when I sit down. It’s like sitting naked on the hood of a car in Antarctica. You’d think I’d remember after all the years of practice, but it still catches me by surprise every time.

Well, last night, Janice had just finished her routine when I assumed the position. It was warm and wonderful. I really liked not jumping when my ass hit. I opened the door and shared my joy with my significant other.

Despite my happiness at not having my testicles shrivel into raisins at the first onset of cold, something wasn’t quite right. Upon further examination, I determined what it was. Yes, the porcelain is cold, but that means that it’s not been used. There’s something antiseptic, something clean, about a cold toilet. It means that it’s fresh. A warm toilet seat, implies all of the horrible bugs, germs, and God knows what else that ferments in a bathroom in which I spend excessive amounts of time.

To sum up in a basic algebraic equation…

Warm toilet=nice, but shady.

Cold toilet=unnerving, but safer.

And, good pooping.

Chris