08 May 2007

Seat goes up, seat goes down.

Hinging on gender equality
I've never been much of a feminist. I mean sure, I'm all for universal suffrage and equal pay, but I'm also a big fan of swanky lingerie and sanity, so bra-burning and Germaine Greer have never seemed very appealing. Besides, I'm currently a housewife looking after a baby and I'm almost entirely dependent on my bloke for financial support (and the gorgeous man does the shopping and laundry, which is brilliant). So I'm not one to push the feminism barrow too forcefully.

While I'm on the subject though, I'd like to get something off my underwire-supported chest. At the risk of being a complete traitor to my gender. I ask:
Why do women complain when men leave the toilet seat up?

This has me stumped. Granted, I think it would be slightly easier to sit on the loo if one didn't first have to move the seat from a vertical to a horizontal position. But it's hardly the kind of ordeal that's likely to ruin my day. I doubt I'd even risk breaking a nail in the process. And surely the incorporation of a hinge into the overall toilet design has facilitated the task to the point of maximum convenience, without splashing out for a hi-tech gadget like this (Quicktime movie from TOTO Japan - where else?).

The most important point, of course, is that men rarely complain when women leave the seat down. They seem to accomplish the baffling and strenuous task of moving a piece of moulded plastic through 90 degrees without turning it into a drama of misandry.

Get over it, girls. Let's save our angst for something that really counts. Overt fart-pride, perhaps. Or the discrepancy between male and female beach volleyball uniforms.

Any more suggestions?


  1. Oh, HEAR HEAR.

    Of the smorgasbord of idiosyncratic man-stuff, the toilet seat is the mildest chicken in the crowded coop.

    And leaving the seat up minimises the chances of a yellow 'Jackson Pollock' being left upon it.

    If we're gonna complain, let's make it about shower nose-blowing, or supermarket-shelf-illiteracy.

    But if we're going to complain specifically about blokey toilet travesties, let's talk brown, cigar-shaped presents left for us in the bowl. You know who you are.

  2. I used to be anti-shower-nose-blowing, until I tried it (on a don't-knock-it-'til-you've-tried-it basis). It's enormously liberating, quite effective and environmentally friendly.

    But I only do it if nobody else can hear.

  3. Water, hair and snot all going into the same drain-hole can only spell disaster. I know this for a fact.

    Nice phoy-toy, by the way! You funny.

  4. I would just like blokes to clean the toilet every now and then. I have no issue with the position of the toilet seat...
    Happy Mums Day...vxx

  5. We have the convenience of his 'n' hers bogs. The gender-distinction extends to cleaning and towel replacement. I recommend it highly, if one has the means and the real estate.

  6. Well, I have to admit to having An Issue with the seat-up thing. I suppose it's more of a phobia, really. It dates from the time I wandered down to the loo in the early dawn light as an unsuspecting, trusting five-year-old. I planted my arse, only to find it wedged in the bowl, arms and legs flailing. This, darlings, is not a good place to find oneself wedged. Especially when one roars oneself hoarse, only to have one's mother and sister come rushing... and burst into laughter. Yes, it probably was hilarious. But I was wedged in the dunny, damnit!

    But 30-odd years on from Toiletgate, my bloke and I have a fairly egalitarian view of loos. Why should it be ready for either of us to use with no effort? We both shut the seat and the lid every time and everyone's happy. Huzzah, etc.

  7. Redcap, I had no idea, you poor poppet. I think you definitely qualify as a 'special' case. And you can put any inflection you want on that.