by Dave Ellis

We have 2.5 bathrooms in our house. I love talking about rooms in decimal form. The problem with having that many bathrooms is that you have to clean that many bathrooms, or in my case feel guilty about not helping to clean the bathrooms, 2.5 times over. The other problem with having 2.5 bathrooms is that you have 3.0 toilets, which doesn’t make sense mathematically, but who’s to argue when you really have to go?

My kids take care of the toilet properly by feeding it loads of toilet paper. It makes sense – in their minds – cats eat cat food, dogs eat dog food and toilets eat toilet paper. Right now the downstairs toilet has a size 4 pair of Power Ranger underwear stuck in it, compliments of my son. Seriously.

Guess who gets to clear out the blocked toilet? That’s right, my plumber. But if he’s not available then I have to do it. Here’s my step-by-step instruction guide on how to de/un clog a toilet, my favorite job ever.

Step 1

• Call the plumber again. If he’s not available, go to step 2.

Step 2

• Put your house on the market. Ask your plumber if he wants to buy it first, to save on real estate fees. If not then replace the offending bathroom door with drywall and change your house from 2.5 to 2.0 bathrooms.

That’s all, 2 easy steps. If you don’t want to bother with selling your house then you could make a back up toilet. My family once lived for a few weeks in a temporary house on stilts in Alaska that had NO running water. The nearest source was a hand pump that was a mile away. We’d drive down and fill up gallon containers for drinking and cooking. The bathroom was another story. For us boys, the bathroom was always a tree away. In the house we had a backup toilet, referred to as a ‘honey bucket.’ Only one part of the name was accurate, it was a 5 gallon paint bucket. I don’t think I need to explain much else about it.

Side note: giving an awful thing like a honey bucket a ‘nice’ name doesn’t make it any less awful, in fact it ruins one’s fondness for honey. I’ve recovered, but I still check the honey jar before I drizzle my toast.

I didn’t care too much for the honey bucket, not because of its deceptive name, because that only fools you once. I didn’t like it because I was the one who had to take care of it (dump it out), along with my brother Nate. It was the worst job in the house, but it certainly removed any romanticism related to jobs in the sanitation industry. I really can’t go into much more detail about the bucket because this is a family magazine. Needless to say, indoor plumbing is a wonderful thing.

I am very thankful for our 2.5 bathrooms, especially the .5 one because it’s downstairs. It’s also called the ‘powder room’ by those who use powder I guess. For what, I don’t know. It is mostly used for the obvious thing and it’s where my girls give their Barbie dolls baths – in the sink mind you. As much hassle as modern toilets can be with the clogging, cleaning and powdering (ah, there it is), they still are better than a bucket, even if you call it a ‘super cool fantastic awesome not really gross at all’ bucket, with honey on top.