Don't Know Why...

Today I had to buy a toilet seat. I firmly believe this is Darrin's job. I also firmly believe one should only have to buy a single toilet seat which will look new and pristine forever and ever. Unfortunately, my beliefs were challenged and I ended up at Kmart looking at possible toilet seat purchases.

I finally chose (seriously--how does one know it will work unless one tries it first?), and found that the shrink-wrapped seat was attached to a convenient plastic handle. As I had opted for no shopping cart, I grasped the item by its handle and began to walk toward the front of the store. A woman who knows more about make-up than I do, and who spends large amounts of money on her manicure, gave me highly disdainful look, at which point I thought, "Hey! How many times will I get to carry a toilet seat around a store in my lifetime. I believe I must make the best of this opportunity."

So I flashed make-up-and-manicure lady my very best smile and walked by her, nonchalantly swinging my toilet seat (come on, admit it--the words "toilet seat" make you want to giggle, right??). She didn't smile back. 

I made my way about the store, being certain the toilet seat was completely visible. I got many odd looks from people. It may have been because I looked so happy to be carrying my bathroom item. One man looked highly uncomfortable as I passed, so I stopped and asked if he thought the pattern on the seat was a good one, or if he preferred the soft kind of toilet seat. He ignored me. 

I made the rounds, then finally bought my prize. The results of my experiment are thus:  I am just not as appealing when carrying a toilet seat. Most people didn't smile back at me. In fact, many avoided making eye contact altogether. 

So--I bought a toilet seat. But I firmly believe Darrin should be the one to install it on the porcelain throne. And I don't intend to be wrong about this.