If a man’s home is his castle, does that mean the toilet his throne? Probably not, the toilet is merely the equivalent of the Royal shitter, or wherever it is that a royal highness chooses to defecate.
Irrespective of how poor this analogy is, I am nevertheless thrilled to share with you a picture of my new toilet. 😁
I.e. my royal shitter
You see, this humble water closet in the master en-suite represents not just a place to take care of one’s most basic of human functions, it represents pristine solitude and tranquility.
It’s been eight years since I’ve had known the pleasure of not having to share a bathroom with small children. That’s eight years of having to share with three little boys who do not understand how to aim. Eight years of being rudely (but very cutely) interrupted by a small child clutching his crotch and saying “Hurry Daddy, I need to pee!”
This eight year stage of my life will come to an end very soon, and I shall celebrate in the only manner befitting such a momentous occasion: by christening my new throne 😉
Eden Brae Waldorf 50 