The Virgin in the Bathroom.

The old black toilet seat is finally in the car, all ready to make its last journey to the tip tomorrow.

It’s the one that was in place when I moved to this house seven years ago. It was disgusting. In fact, the whole toilet was disgusting, and I confess to being a big girl’s blouse when it comes to toilets. The toilet is the one thing that must look perennially virgin, and so my first investment went the way of some ultra-strong chemical concoction and a new toilet seat. The old one has been lying in the shed for seven years, and I’m having a bit of a clear-out.

I felt guilty about the non-environmentally friendly chemical concoction, but… well… big girl’s blouse, you know? The new toilet seat was a white plastic one, and it’s still white, even in the crevices. I bought it because I decided that plastic would be the most hygienic.

(That’s a lie; I bought it because it was the cheapest, but I haven’t succumbed to typhus or died of anything yet.)