The Uncle Frog Blog

NICKNAMES

That’s right.  A baby.  Not only a baby.  But a beautiful baby girl.  Our first. *sigh*

If you’ve been wondering what’s been keeping wacky old Uncle Frog’s fingers too busy to post, it has been the most wonderful experience known to man … and woman.  Our darling baby daughter decided to come join us on this side of the womb a whole five weeks early.  Born on Pi Day (that’s 3.14 to those non-geeks out there), she is the apple of my eye.

I’m finally starting to get my head out of my crib, and regaining a slight interest in the real world again.  This doesn’t mean I’m not still being baby hog or completely doting over my gorgeous girl.  It only means that I’ve gotten my bearings back, my land-legs so-to-speak, and can actually partially function in the real world.  What does that mean in terms of the blog?  Well, there’s a good change there will be more posts in the near future.  There’s also a better than average chance that some of the posts will be about the fun, funny and heart-wrenching experiences of being a new father.

Will I be changing my name from Uncle Frog to Poppa Frog?  Nope.  There’s a better chance I’ll take on the moniker of Poppa Bear rather than twist up the frog reference.  My nieces gave me that nickname, and the nickname shall remain.  With the addition of my daughter into this world, this doesn’t diminish the love I have for my nieces.  There’s plenty of room in this guy’s heart for all of them (and my new nephew, too!)

When we purchased our current home, one of the features (or lack thereof) pointed out to us was that the master bathroom did not have dual sinks. To be frank, the master bathroom is a little small. But I wasn’t terribly concerned about this at the time.

You see, logic told me that this would not be an issue. Here are the known facts: There are twenty-four hours in the day, with an average of eight of those hours spent sleeping and another nine hours per day working and commuting. This leaves seven hours. It takes me literally fifteen minutes to get ready (that’s for the 3 S’s … you know, sh*t, shower and shave). This means I would only be using 1/28th of this seven hour daily period to get ready for the day. This would leave Mrs. Frog 27/28th of that time available for her to use our master bathroom in complete privacy.

Here are the discovered facts: Whenever I choose to use my 1/28th of the time, aka fifteen minutes, Mrs. Frog decides this is a perfect time for her to use the bathroom.

WTF?!? I can’t have fifteen minutes of privacy a day? The math works out. The logic is sound. However, in reality, this still doesn’t work as it should.

I’m operating under the assumption (yes, I know what “they” say about assuming) that this is a loving gesture made by a woman that is intended to express her desire to be always close to her loving man … as opposed to the equally plausible assumption that this is a woman’s non-verbal gesture to clearly communicate to the man that there will never be another moment of privacy and that anything the man believes he actually still has all to himself can instantly be taken away by said woman.

Of course Mrs. Frog and your Uncle Frog want to spend every waking moment together, so in that regard this posting is more of an observation than it is a complaint. But if any of you female types out there would wish to comment about how this can possibly happen, we surely would appreciate the insight.

Of course you already know about the “Seat Up/Seat Down” debate. Sure you do! Everyone does. Yes, today we are going to talk about urination and domestic responsibility. The fact that you know what I’m referring to with the “Seat Up/Seat Down” reference goes to show how widespread of an issue this truly is.

Before I present my proposed solution to this age old debate, first let me see if I can’t briefly capsulate the positions of the men and the women (let me know if I do your gender a disservice with my synopsis).

MEN – The toilet seat should be left up. No one in his or her right mind would sit on a toilet without looking. So if the women happen to fall in, that’s their own fault. Potty training should include the side lesson to “look before you leap.” Men don’t accidentally pee on a closed seat because they look first. The same premise should hold for women.

WOMEN – The toilet seat should be left down. First, see the “falling in” discussion from the men’s section above. It’s a serious concern, especially for those late night trips. Besides, it is more sanitary and aesthetic to have the toilet seat down. Men use the toilet with the toilet seat down about 25%-50% of the time anyway. Women use the toilet with the toilet seat down about 99% of the time (don’t ask me anything more about the 1%, I don’t want to talk about it). Thus, even if you only look at the percentage usage of “Seat Up/Seat Down” then the seat should definitely be left down.

What got me thinking about this debate again is that I have recently installed a new toilet in one of our bathrooms. Yes, it only took me a month to complete. But it got done. I am a man.

This particular toilet has the “extended bowl” (imagine a Tim the Toolman Taylor grunt here). I love it. Mrs. Frog thinks it is giant. It’s big, but I wouldn’t go so far as giant. The design fits in very nicely with pedestal sink and other bathroom accessories. The look was so complete that the fuzzy little toilet seat cover (yuck!) no longer belonged in that room. So of course the toilet seat cover needed to be used somewhere. It is now in the master bathroom.

Bare with me just a moment longer … I’m getting to the point, but the back-story was slightly important. OK, so we’ve got three bathrooms in our house. The new one with the elongated bowl … the seat is too tall and will fall down if not held open about 85% of the time. Now, when I hold up the seat with one hand … let’s just say that things don’t always go according to plan and it can sometimes get out of control. I won’t elaborate, but let’s just say that it’s best when men have two free hands available when they urinate.

The master bathroom now has that fuzzy toilet seat cover. And now it is too thick to stay open as well. The seat will fall unless held up. Keep in mind that the toilet in the master bathroom doesn’t have the longer toilet seat because it is a regular sized toilet, and therefore is ever so slightly more difficult to keep up while in the process of urination. The third toilet in the house does have a seat that will stay up, but this is the guest bathroom and in the least convenient location of the three (hey, at least we let our guests have their own bathroom).

SOLUTION – Keep the seat down and have the men train on better aim. Think of it like a shooting range. This solution will not work if the cluster is too spread out, but if the man can achieve tight grouping on his shots … this solution will work just fine. Keep the seat down, stand over top of the toilet (instead of just in front of it) and aim straight down. Be careful of the last few drops and make sure the aim is true. With better aim and concentration, I’ve found that lifting the toilet seat up is a complete waste of time and energy. Besides, when the toilet seat stays down, the women in the house are happiest.

TAAAA-DAAAA! Problem solved. Commence the commenting.

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Ok, so I’m all aboard the Women’s Lib train. Choo! Choo! But seriously, ladies, please pick a stance and stick with it. Either there are roles best suited to a male or female, or we are all equals. But which one is it?!?

If men and women are truly equals ….

Why is it the man’s job to kill the stray mouse or bug that wanders into the home?

Why is it the man’s job to spread the eight cubic yards of topsoil and the six cubic yards of cypress mulch that has been delivered?

Why is it the man’s job to climb on the roof to conduct all sorts of dangerous odd jobs like roof repair, waterproofing, chimney sweep or hanging Christmas lights?

Why is it the man’s job to haul the 40-pound bags of kitty litter into the house, or the 80-pound bags of dog food?

Why is it the man’s job to replace the toilet that suddenly started leaking for some unfathomable reason?

Why is it the man’s job to clean up all the dog poop in the yard?

Why is it the man’s job to cut the grass, trim the walks, edge the driveway, prune the trees and clip the hedges?

Why are there still so many “Men’s Jobs” still reserved for guys, but the poor guys will wind up with a law suit, a slap or drink in the face, or night in the dog house if we even come close to suggesting there still are such things as “Women’s Jobs?”

Are we equals? Or are we not? I’m soooooo confused. *sigh*