As promised, I am here to report on my fuck-uppery when it came to replacing my toilet seat.

Yes, I did it myself.

Yes, it was a fucking nightmare.

I look at the current (broken) toilet seat (replete with duct tape); specifically, at the hinges on the back.  To my utter dismay, there is no way to remove the “cap” that covers where the hinge attaches to the toilet bowl.

So, I make the mistake of putting my little pea brain to work.

Remove the hinges from the toilet seat!  Surely, then everything will come loose.

Nope.

Four screws – three of them are removable – with much grunting, groaning, and plain old elbow grease.  Fourth screw refuses to budge.  However, I note that even though one side of the toilet seat is now dismantled, I cannot do anything to remove the part that attaches to the toilet bowl.

WTF?

Make note of the manufacturer and style of the current (broken) toilet seat, and go online.

Which, of course, I should have done in the first fucking place.

First thing the website tells me is: “Typically, the most difficult job of replacing a seat is removing the old one …”

No duh.

You see, what I ALWAYS forget is the screws that attach the seat to the bowl, go ALL THE WAY THROUGH the bowl, and are “accessible from the bottom.

Well, there’s your problem.

So, why-the-fuck do home designers put toilets in places where you have no hope of getting underneath the bowl, to get to the screws, to remove the toilet seat?  Especially, if you are a fat old lady.

I go to the garage and look in the tool box – the website says I need a ½-inch wrench.  I see we have something that is supposed to be an adjustable wrench.  That should do it, right?  Right?

I go back to the bathroom.  Get on the floor – ALL the way down, and try my best to get where I can see what I’m doing.  Not happening.

So I try to do everything by feel.

Yeah, that’ll work.

As far as I can tell the adjustable wrench is hopeless.  I cannot get a good grip on anything.

Get back up.  (This is not as easy as it sounds for a fat old lady.)

Go back to the garage.  Go on a hunt for a ½-inch wrench.  We have an abundance of 5/8 and 7/16, and 9/16 wrenches.  FINALLY, find a ½-inch wrench.  (Thank you oh deities of little used tools.)

Go back to the bathroom.  Get down on the floor – ALL the way down.  I still can’t get where I can see, but by pushing the cat box (which to me feels like it weighs about 100 pounds) out of the way, and putting one leg over the edge of the tub, I can almost see.  And I set to work.

First I need to figure out which direction do I turn the damn thing.  A couple of tries and I get it figured out.  Of course, because of where the bolts are, you cannot make anything like a full circle with the wrench – more like a quarter turn, at best.  So I whittle away at it, and finally have it loose enough to finish off with my fingers (well, that sound’s like a lot more fun than it actually was).  Disentangle my leg from the tub.  Slide my fat old lady ass over to the other side.  Rehang a leg into the tub.  (My head is now firmly wedged between the toilet and the wall, which at least, I guess, gives me leverage.)  Figure out my direction, quarter turn my way to success.

Hooray!  The toilet seat is off!

This is when I realize, the new toilet seat is in the living room.

In my nicest most polite manner, I request help from my hubby.  Could he please, please, please bring me the new toilet seat.  And even though he is in the throes of a bad cold, he brings it to me.

The website is correct – the most difficult job is removing the old seat – the second most difficult job is putting the new seat on, because it also requires you to get down on the floor and tighten the bolts – which require a 5/8-inch wrench.  (Did I mention that for once I was smart enough to bring an assortment of wrenches on my last trip to the garage?)  At least, since you screw the bolt on by hand to begin with, there is no question about what direction to use with the wrench.  And you know when you are done, because the 5/8-inch bit of the bolt snaps off when it is tight enough – leaving you with the ½-inch part when you go to remove the seat – which I NEVER EVER INTEND TO DO.

So before going to bed, I was able to proudly use the toilet seat I put on by myself and flush it with the part I replaced myself!

I am the butchiest of the butchest cookies in this cookie jar.

Now to wait for the payback I know my fat old lady body has in store for me because of the gymnastic floor routines I was doing.

But at least I can now poop and pee with impunity!