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Today I bought my 4th toilet seat this year. I think it's actually 4 in 5-6 months, but the kids are arguing this point (of course). Still 4 toilet seats in 9 and a bit months is a quite a lot for your average family.

This isn't the main reason for my blog. Oh no sireee.

The seat to be replaced had completely broken. The bit you sit on was propped up against the wall. But the useless bit - the lid that no-one in my family ever puts down - was more than firmly attached. This was probably because it was a quality toilet seat. I think it was the 'most-expensive-seat-in-the-history-of-christandom', but I digress. Jonathan had to remove it with a hacksaw, or smash the toilet (and then that would have made it one hellish expensive bog seat).

So, he did this, fitted the new, cheap, one and then announced that he had cleaned the loo and the floor.

Hmmmph.

Obviously 'clean' means something different on Planet Jonathan. I took one look and armed with an industrial size bottle of Flash (with bleach) and a full kitchen towel roll, I cleaned the toilet. And the floor. Apart from finding about 500gms of rust (obviously from the old toilet seat) I found a button, two pebbles and a minging old sticking plaster. The whole bloody room measures no more than 5'6"x2'6". So what exactly was he cleaning?

I admit to being pretty slovenly when it comes to housework, cos I simply know I was intended for better things, but when I say I've cleaned something, well, I have actually done it.

I really, really need a (decent and competent) wife. Any volunteers?