*I will slowly stretch open my grandmother’s toilet*
To fully understand this goal, let me share a recent conversation I had with Skye.
“I hate that new toilet seat, I’m seriously too fat for it,” I casually commented as we puttered around the kitchen.
“What?” Skye replied.
“The new toilet seat for Grandma, I’m too fat for it and it’s always freezing cold.”
“What?” Skye repeated.
“You know how when you sit down on the toilet seat the side arms are all pressed into your hips and they’re really cold and uncomfortable?” I asked.
“…no” Skye responded.
“Well, see, this is awkward, because I was joking before and assumed everyone’s hips barely fit on the toilet” I said, turning towards her.
“Yeah, I don’t touch the sides at all” Skye stated confidently.
Then an uncomfortable pause ensued.
(As an aside, don’t you hate when you share something with the assumption that it’s true for everyone and then it’s true for no one and then apparently you’re a weirdo? This has been on my mind lately because none of my friends will admit that they, too, sometimes fall down in the bathroom and pee on themselves. But that’s a whole different post.)
Now that I’ve discovered being too large for the bathroom is a personal problem, there’s only one obvious solution. I need to, over the course of the coming year, slowly push apart the seat handles until I can fit within them.
At first, I planned on doing this with my hands, but just realized that’s wasted effort – my hips will already be doing that workload.
So, basically, resolution accomplished.
I’m really good at this whole yearly goals thing
I might have to start doing it monthly,