You might be surprised to learn that my toilet seat had a name. I say "had" because it died this morning.
It was a fraught relationship, anyway.
The toilet seat was a bit out of adjustment – perhaps it wasn't quite the right dimensions for the toilet. So the seat part would never quite stay up properly, the way a male has been trained to hope for. Thus it was that my brother, when visiting in 2013, dubbed it, in the most politically incorrect way imaginable, "the Feminist Toilet Seat" – because it always wanted to put the seat down. Hence "FTS."
At some point after he left, however, one day, I was frustrated with how it never stayed up quite right, or would fall down just at the most inopportune moment. I snapped it up more vigorously than it could tolerate, and broke one of the plastic hinge attachments.
This had a good result, however. After that, the seat stayed up just fine. Sitting on the seat, on the other hand, became more complicated. It had a tendency to lurch sideways if my weight wasn't properly centered on it. That could be alarming, as you might imagine.
So at some point in 2015 I added "toilet seat, 40cm x 36 cm" to my little shopping list that I keep on my phone, where, in my typical gnomic fashion, in fact I called it "toilseat."
For the last 2 years, I didn't buy a new toilet seat. Because although it was a bit annoying, it was always an annoyance that was quite transient. This morning, snapping it up in that way that exploited the broken hinge, however, I broke the other hinge. And thus it died. The FTS traveled quickly to the trash.
I walked over to the Home Plus store and bought a new one for ₩12,900 (eleven bucks – made in Vietnam), and installed it with zero problems. I wonder why I didn't do that sooner?
[daily log: walking, 3km]