It’s official. The Christmas decorations are out.
You can probably guess what type of person I am.
Having said that; the one very exciting aspect of Christmas was delivered straight to our door yesterday afternoon. That’s right people: The Home Care Catalogue: Christmas Edition.
The Home Care Catalogue is always one of my guilty pleasures. Sitting down with a coffee to read about the latest innovations and imagining the inventors at the Dragons Den always amuses me. But the Christmas Edition is something truly special. This year there was such a fantastic array of items featured that I suggested to my family that we all pick something out of the catalogue for each others christmas presents. They were surprisingly unenthusiastic, but still crowded around pointing out “Look at the motorised gardening buggy!” and “I totally need one of those Holy Bible USB drives!”
Given the calibre of the selection, it was incredibly difficult. But I have decided to stray from my usual topic of mental health today, to personally present a few of my favourite catalogue items to you. So here they are. In no particular order of fabulousness.
First up. Toilet Decals!
While I have never seen my lavatory as an object of decoration, there is always time for something new! This particular design reminds me of a birthday many years ago, when our good friend Jack asked Steven and I for a golden toilet seat. And a private jet. In that order.
While the jet was somewhat difficult to obtain, we did manage to fulfil Jack’s desire of a golden throne. A quick trip to Bunnings, one standard toilet seat, and some gold spray paint later Jack could now rest his posterior in a princely fashion. But THIS toilet seat decal could take the DIY out of DIY. No having to explain to the staff member why you need the spray paint. And for under $50. Who could resist?
Next up….a more comfortable throne.
I have never known a gift magazine to contain so many lavatorial items. But I actually had an epiphany when I saw this. I realised that humans vary in size and stature….but (aside from the minuture toilets you find in daycare centres) TOILETS ARE ALL THE SAME SIZE.
Thats, like, discrimination against the non – average. I’m a tall person. (Not freakishly tall, I hasten to add, but I can tend to look like a 12 year old boy at the end of a school year if I don’t buy the “Tall” sized pants). This lavatorial add on could make an actual difference to my life. To all tall people’s lives! And the convenient portable nature of the seat is a total win.
I’m sensing somewhat of a lavatorial theme here. And this next item is no exception, although it is less of a promotion and more of a cautionary tale.
My parents were often trying to come up with innovative ways to dispose of our doggy dung. The time they decided to feed the poo to our worm farm being another example (Fail. Worms died). However the Poo Bucket incident was undoubtedly the most disastrous of these occasions, and has become the stuff of family legend.
The purpose of the Poo Bucket is to add your poo (well, not yours, the dogs) to a mix of chemicals and it is supposed to, I don’t know, melt the poo, transform it into mulch, or fertiliser, or ice cream, or something.
Anyway all our poo transformed into was a molten, steaming, brown liquid that smelled SO bad that we couldn’t actually use the side of yard where the bucket was housed for the best part of a year. I am not even exaggerating. Even flies expired if they strayed into Poo Bucket Territory.
You have to understand. The smell of the Poo Bucket was so indescribably revolting. So gut wrenchingly putrid. And I’m stating this as a mother, dog owner, former childcare worker, and individual with recurrent gastrointestinal distress who should really have “Adept at dealing with bodily functions” inscribed onto my resume.
For the most part our policy of dealing with the Poo Bucket was “out of smell, out of mind.” But Dad pulled the short straw on the morning of twenty first birthday party, dry retching as he ran with the Poo Bucket, trying to find a suitable spot where the bucket could neither be smelled or sighted by guests. We totally didn’t watch and laugh.
But even after hiding the evidence, the core problem still remained. A large bucket of molten poo is surprisingly difficult to get rid of. Eventually, out of desperation my parents ended up dealing with the Poo Problem by digging a large hole underneath our lime tree.
On the up side, our limes did very well.
And now, I’ve truly saved the best for last…
A realistic model Bigfoot for your garden. Seriously. Who WOULDN”T want this gracing their front lawn. It’s “Fascinating”. It’s also only 52cm tall because, admittedly, a life-size Bigfoot would just be going too far, Rachael. If you are my Secret Santa this year you totally know what to get me.
Happy Home Care: Christmas Edition!