So I live with three guys and a cat. Of course all of them kind of use the toilet. And most of them don't necessarily have a very good... target. Even if their aim would be perfect, the damn thing still needs cleaning.
Guess who does it? Well, if you ask them, I am sure they will say "The Toilet Fairy". You know, that mythical creature that makes it clean, sparkly and less smelly at least for a short while. For sure it's not them, so it has to be a fairy. Heh, who cares, it gets done? Fine by them.
I admit it, I sometimes take advantage of my youngest and make him participate. But he has no idea what he's doing, he just knows he's playing with some nice smelling wipes. Won't last long, I know that from the older one. So I am aware that this is as good as it gets.
Now what bugs me is: if all - or most - women out there are in similar situations, wtf is happening to them when they go to work?! Every time I enter the toilet at work (which is a women-only toilet) I experience once or more of the following: amazement, disgust, anger, shock, banging-my-head-against-the-walls (at least those are clean!) desires, sudden urge to scream, homicidal thoughts, and much more.
So I am just wondering: do all those intelligent, educated and well paid professional women suddenly forget how to clean a toilet? Or do they simply step in another dimension (same as the one inhabited by men?) and start believing in The Toilet Fairy?
Well ladies, let me tell you something: THERE IS NO TOILET FAIRY! And I'm sick of your sudden and convenient memory loss. I'm sure I'm not alone when I urge you to pick up that brush and use it!
Friday, January 31, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
She would have been 91 today...
She was one of ten children of a simple (and poor) family born in an unusual city, the most Eastern point of Romania.
When she was less than 10 years old she was sent to live with another family, one that could support her financially. When she figured that they treated her badly enough, she gathered whatever she had and went back to her real family by herself. Walking. From one village to the other, till she got home.
She married young, with just a guy who would provide a home and relieve her family of one mouth to feed. Actually, she built her house by herself, while she was pregnant with her first. Her family in law did nothing to help and her husband was never around.
She had six children, two boys, then four girls. The boys died before the age of 2. She never showed any sorrow, just happiness in her children.
She divorced her good-for-nothing guy - when people did not really know what divorce was... and her daughters were so young. She had enough of his drinking and spending all his money on "friends" and mistresses. He died, run over by a train, several years later. He was drunk and he just fell asleep at the wrong place at the wrong time.
She knew war, she knew famine. She survived both.
She did not go to school for more than 2 years, but she knew how to read and write. She read "War and peace" and all the religious books she could afford. She believed in right and wrong and getting what you deserved after your death.
She raised her four girls alone. On an insignificant salary. She did house chores for her sister to earn more money. Two of her daughters went to University. The third one started working early, but found time to play theater and read every good book available. The forth one had to marry young and work as well, to help the others get along with their lives. All had incredibly well ingrained values, shared a home full of songs and laughter and supported each other all the way.
She never said anything bad about anyone. She took care of her four daughters, she raised her four grandchildren, she did everything she could (and so much more) for everybody she knew.
She was the most incredible human being I had the honor of knowing. She was my grandmother.
She would have been 91 today...
When she was less than 10 years old she was sent to live with another family, one that could support her financially. When she figured that they treated her badly enough, she gathered whatever she had and went back to her real family by herself. Walking. From one village to the other, till she got home.
She married young, with just a guy who would provide a home and relieve her family of one mouth to feed. Actually, she built her house by herself, while she was pregnant with her first. Her family in law did nothing to help and her husband was never around.
She had six children, two boys, then four girls. The boys died before the age of 2. She never showed any sorrow, just happiness in her children.
She divorced her good-for-nothing guy - when people did not really know what divorce was... and her daughters were so young. She had enough of his drinking and spending all his money on "friends" and mistresses. He died, run over by a train, several years later. He was drunk and he just fell asleep at the wrong place at the wrong time.
She knew war, she knew famine. She survived both.
She did not go to school for more than 2 years, but she knew how to read and write. She read "War and peace" and all the religious books she could afford. She believed in right and wrong and getting what you deserved after your death.
She raised her four girls alone. On an insignificant salary. She did house chores for her sister to earn more money. Two of her daughters went to University. The third one started working early, but found time to play theater and read every good book available. The forth one had to marry young and work as well, to help the others get along with their lives. All had incredibly well ingrained values, shared a home full of songs and laughter and supported each other all the way.
She never said anything bad about anyone. She took care of her four daughters, she raised her four grandchildren, she did everything she could (and so much more) for everybody she knew.
She was the most incredible human being I had the honor of knowing. She was my grandmother.
She would have been 91 today...
Friday, January 3, 2014
Tourne? Croco?
What do desperate parents do with kids to get them off their backs for five minutes? They show them how to watch
TV.
As I am as anti-TV as they come, both my kids started with something which might actually be worse: youtube.
What we let them watch on youtube are nursery rhymes. French ones, of course. My older one started with these, and has some favorites. He has since moved – very quickly – towards cartoons, managing to know by now (he’s not yet 5) everything about Transformers, Turtles Ninja and now, Pokemon. How I hate those bastards. Tears that are pictured as either rivers streaming down the cheeks or water “flowing” horizontally just bothers my brain. Kids with no visible eyes or at least one sexy Pokemon nurse per episode are even more disturbing to me. What can I say, I'm a freak.
But this post is about my youngest one. He started watching the damn nursery rhymes a couple of months ago. And he loves them. He’s got some favorites as well, especially the ones he started with: “Tourne, tourne petit moulin” and “Les crocodiles”. In the meantime he discovered some more. One he likes a lot is about a farm where there are pigs, ducks, sheep, rabbits, cows, and so on. And for each of them there’s a chorus with the corresponding sounds.
So now every time he passes by the PC (or even the TV, as we can watch youtube there as well thanks to some amazing technology!), he looks at me or his father and goes: “Tourne? Croco?”. And if we say no, he continues with: “Pig? Duck? Sheep?”… and so on until listing the entire farm. And yeah, he's not yet 2 years old, but he can perfectly pronounce "Pikachu".
So what choice do we have, other than laugh and go along with it?
As I am as anti-TV as they come, both my kids started with something which might actually be worse: youtube.
What we let them watch on youtube are nursery rhymes. French ones, of course. My older one started with these, and has some favorites. He has since moved – very quickly – towards cartoons, managing to know by now (he’s not yet 5) everything about Transformers, Turtles Ninja and now, Pokemon. How I hate those bastards. Tears that are pictured as either rivers streaming down the cheeks or water “flowing” horizontally just bothers my brain. Kids with no visible eyes or at least one sexy Pokemon nurse per episode are even more disturbing to me. What can I say, I'm a freak.
But this post is about my youngest one. He started watching the damn nursery rhymes a couple of months ago. And he loves them. He’s got some favorites as well, especially the ones he started with: “Tourne, tourne petit moulin” and “Les crocodiles”. In the meantime he discovered some more. One he likes a lot is about a farm where there are pigs, ducks, sheep, rabbits, cows, and so on. And for each of them there’s a chorus with the corresponding sounds.
So now every time he passes by the PC (or even the TV, as we can watch youtube there as well thanks to some amazing technology!), he looks at me or his father and goes: “Tourne? Croco?”. And if we say no, he continues with: “Pig? Duck? Sheep?”… and so on until listing the entire farm. And yeah, he's not yet 2 years old, but he can perfectly pronounce "Pikachu".
So what choice do we have, other than laugh and go along with it?
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