I have a houskeeper who comes in once a week to vaccuum, mop all the floors (every room is hardwood) and scrub down the bathroom, with the exception of the toilet.
I mentioned this exception to my sister yesterday. “Why doesn’t she clean the toilet, too?” she asked. “Does she charge extra for that?”
“No,” I said. “I just don’t want anyone to have to clean my toilet.”
My sister told me politely and gently that she saw fallacies in my thinking. Well, actually what she said is, “Are you stupid or somethin’? Why not? She’s a housekeeper! That’s how she makes her living! That’s what you’re paying her to do– the yucky jobs that you don’t want to do yourself.”
My husband and I eat an American diet, and to put it as tactfully as possible, the underside of our toilet seat and the rim of the bowl is often a testament to this fact. Cleaning your own toilet is a distasteful chore, but I imagine it would be truly disgusting to have to clean up after someone else. As I told her, tongue-in-cheek, “I’m too much of a liberal to make someone do that, no matter how well I’m paying them.”
After this conversation, I got to thinking, and came to the conclusion that I think everyone should have to clean their own toilet, no matter how rich and powerful they are. Bill Gates and George Bush should have to go into the bathroom with a toilet brush and scrubby-wipes.
To my way of thinking, it serves much the same purpose as the slave who stood beside Ceasar in his chariot as he recieved the accolades of Rome, whispering in his ear, “Remember that thou art mortal.”
Thus, I have made a vow: that no matter where life takes me, should I win the lottery or cure cancer, I will always clean my own commode. It’ll keep me humble.