Tales of the The Privy

My Dear Fellow,

You know, I have only just noticed the our bathroom door has the word "Privé" written on there. I think this is a very British thing. We do have a habit of putting labels on bathroom doors saying things like "Here It Is" or "The Smallest Room".

I think it is a very coy way of encouraging drunken guests to use this as their place of convenience. And therefore disencouraging them to wee in the sink or poo in a potted plant. Not that this strategy always works.

I know I had spoken before of how small our bathroom is but today I thought I would take a picture to try and convey just HOW tiny. It is not easy. It's so small you have to get inventive with the angles and this particular shot required some contortion. All right, I admit it, I was sat on the khazi with my arm raised and one shoulder pressed against the shower at the time.

So it is SMALL. Imagine doing your ablutions in a box of Swan Vestas and you'll be just about there.

I knew I was safe taking a picture of it today, because Er Indoors has just cleaned it. This was in advance of Lisa visiting. "I don't know why I bother," said Er Indoors darkly. "She'll just sh1t in it anyway."

It might seem harsh, but Lisa does have form. In fact, we suspect she saves them just for us. Oftentimes it's as soon as she enters the flat, like our company is some sort of laxative. It may seem strange but, I've read about this before. It's something to do with feeling relaxed with someone.

For example, it's the same whenever Er Indoors calls Feefs in New Zealand. The conversation nearly always breaks off with one or both of them saying they need to complete a toilet transaction. It is like their colons are mutually saying, "I LOVE you and am COMFORTABLE with you! Now, have you got any reading material?"

Despite knowing all this, Lisa's opening gambit caught me off guard. "Before I forget, can I borrow a toilet roll??"

I'm not sure that "borrow" is a concept one wishes to apply to toilet roll, but ok.

"I went to the supermarket before I came here, but guess what I forgot?" she continued in her usual whirlwind of bag-divesting, coat-dumping and shoe-kicking. "And I'm BOUND to forget it on the way home too, and you just KNOW I'll need to do the most heinous sh1t at 2 in the morning."

Well she needn't have worried. I furnished her with the said article, but within an hour she was asking for a magazine and scurrying off. And then again 10 minutes after dinner.

Not that I mind. She used the citrussy "poo drops" that eliminate odour and anyway it illustrates how close she feels to us. We are not just friends, we are TWO POO friends.

A proud boast, I'm sure you'll agree.

Parsones