It's pretty much a given that when one moves into a house with a man, one will have a certain number of incidents involving toilet seats left up. You know, ladies, the sort of incident that involves a midnight wee and a sudden cold plunge nearly all the way into the facilities as one swears and screams and inwardly seethes...
Anyway, so after a few years of married life one gets one's habits sorted out so that a midnight wee involves an automatic 'seat up/seat down' check and, in general, incidents become fewer and further between.
The problem when one births male progeny however is that small male children, it turns out, aren't that keen on lifting the seat due to the likelihood of it crashing back down on tiny knackers. So, they hopefully loft their little appendages over the top and let fly, leaving what can only be described as a trail behind them as the force of the stream becomes a trickle.
Now, the unsuspecting female can be lured into feelings of safety upon finding the seat down in the loo; BE WARNED however ladies, NOWHERE IS SAFE.
The best thing, I have worked out, would be to have a ladies-only loo as at the moment, having a wee is fraught with all sorts of opportunities for unexpected midnight washes.
Happy New Year! I hope your loo seats are all down and dry (and as warm) as toast.