For the past five years, my family and I have lived in a small house. Three adults, one child, one dog and two cats in a two-bedroom house that is only 704 square feet. My 22-year-old stepson lives in the basement, which is also about 700 square feet.
Our bathroom is very small. I have seen bigger closets. When sitting on the can, my knees are one inch away from the vanity. You basically have to jump over the toilet to get into the tub to take a shower. Needless to say, we need a second bathroom.
A month ago or so, we were having some sewer problems in my house. I know a guy who does waterproofing, so he got his backhoe and we dug up the front of my house and, as suspected, my sewer line was busted and full of mud. I ended up hiring him to replace the pipes and fill the ditch with drain tile.
Since we had everything torn up anyway, we also dug a trench in the basement floor to add a toilet and a sink. Last week, we finally finished the cement work in the basement, and I went toilet shopping over the weekend at Home Depot. I love that store -- it's a good place to dream about all the nice stuff you could have.
After dropping $200 on a toilet and sink, I headed home. Yesterday, I waited for my buddy to come over to help me with the toilet and to put up all the water lines. I had plopped out a few marbles during my morning dump, but nothing worthwhile. By about 2:00 yesterday afternoon, I had to take a good dump. I could have easily went upstairs to my cubbyhole bathroom, but instead I just farted a few times to let off some pressure and continued with the toilet installation.
After another hour I really had to shit bad. By now we had started drinking beer, and that, like my first cup of morning coffee, always gets me moving. Why didn't I just march my stupid ass upstairs, take a dump, and relieve these cramps? Because I am a stubborn asshole and because this was becoming a contest between my workmanship, my intestines and myself.
Finally, around 4:00, the toilet was installed. We flushed it several times with pride. Visions of pooping danced in my brain when I realized I didn't buy a seat!
Now, at this point I was at Turtle Head Poking status, but no, I didn't go up to my claustrophobic throne to release the beast. I jumped into my truck -- in an ice storm -- and drove the five or six miles to Home Depot. Once there, I grabbed the first decent-looking seat I could find, and sped home to install it.
I was on my knees, nervously working fast to bolt it down. Damn, I had to shit -- but I wasn't going to do it until the seat was completely installed! I somehow dropped one of the nuts into the toilet water, but luckily it was made of plastic and floated. I reached right in and grabbed it and a minute later... success.
I stood up, ripped off my jeans, and plopped my bare ass down on my new toilet for the ceremonial First Dump! The monster loaf exited me immediately. Afterwards, I just sat there in relief and ecstasy for about ten minutes, eyeballing my surroundings and fantasizing about how I was going to remodel my basement if my fucking bum of a stepson ever moves out.
I then stood and admired my creation in the bowl. It was easily eighteen inches long, and in a perfect U shape. I then realized I had no toilet paper -- but nothing was going to ruin this moment. I flushed this toilet's first turd. It was a grand initiation.
-- Doniker