Occasional whining from this quarter notifies the reader that I am a lone woman living among men, young and not-old-yet. I believe the men I live with are no better and not much worse than men in general. Heck, I like men--not always these particular four men--but men in general are fine fellows and fun to be around.
Though I've heard the legend of Felix Unger, the Man Who Cleaned, I can only take it on faith that such a man really ever existed. The men I have direct experience with are as helpless as babes where household upkeep is concerned. Frankly, nagging was more trouble than just cleaning up after the herd, er, the Guys. I bowed to the task and did the work myself.
Maybe my rebellion against the chains of domestic oppression was raised by cleaning in August's humid heat while the Guys slept off exhaustion earned by relentless messing through the night, only rising late in the afternoon to mess some more. Maybe it's feminism, but more likely it's just common sense that finally held me back from again simply shrugging off irritation that the Guys don't do anything for the common good, not even taking care of their own needs.
All I knew was that I could not replace the empty roll of toilet paper with a new roll one more time! I'd demonstrated the intricate (yawn.) steps required, I'd offered tutoring to anyone who didn't quite grasp the five step process of:
remove roller
remove empty tube
throw tube in waste basket
put new roll on
put roll-holder-y thing back in
I've done all I could. I reminded, nagged, teased, scolded. The only thing I hadn't tried was to seriously ignore the need. In the spirit of if the old approach doesn't work, try a new one, I simply didn't do the little task. I usually use a different bathroom, anyway so the inconvenience was really more to them than to me. I continued daily basic cleaning in there, but didn't refresh their papery supplies.
Nor did they. To call attention to the glaring need, after several days, every day I added one roll of toilet paper to the single roll on the back of the toilet. They'd been using that and returning it there. Really amazing coordination, when you think of it, but not quite a habit that will ingratiate future daughters- and nieces-in-law to me. I know what those women of the Guy's future lives will say--they'll wail, "Didn't your mother (or aunt) teach you anything?" I know that's what they'll wail because I've wailed it myself a few times.
Anyway, every day a roll was added. And how is it working? Take a look for yourself. This is the situation today.
