I Love My Indoor Plumbing

I love my toilet - with a bidet. There, I said it. It’s a marvel of modern civilization and possibly my favorite invention — right up there with coffee and online shopping. I had no idea how much I truly loved it until the day came when — horror of horrors — I couldn’t use it for more than twenty‑four hours.

When was the last time you had to leave your house to… take care of business? Not camping. Real life. Monday‑morning, neighbors‑can‑see‑you life.

I grew up with a single bathroom for the whole family. One. For everyone. We survived with strategic timing and the occasional screaming match through a locked door. Still — it was inside. Civilization had arrived.

Then life reminded me of my place in the grand plumbing hierarchy. You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone. Our precious plumbing backed up.

Not all over the floor — small mercies — but it made ominous gurgling sounds. Out came the plunger. Nothing. The plumber was called. Verdict: the septic tank was full.

That surprised me. I grew up on a septic system and, in our house, the tank never filled. Ever. My dad designed it himself. This one was clearly designed by amateurs.

It took another full day to get someone out. A full day without my beloved toilet and its gentle, reassuring bidet spray. Civilization collapsed.

We now need to find somewhere to empty the RV, but that’s another story. For now I’m grateful the throne has been restored and that I, a humble subject, may once again sit in comfort and peace.