“Good morning, happy birthday! I have something very special planned for us to do. Grab your dirty laundry and follow me,” my mother greeted me on my 13th birthday. She proceeded to show me how the washing machine worked and the proportions of detergent necessary for each type of clothing, as well as the importance of removing lint from the filter in the dryer. “If you want me to do your laundry for you, you can pay me. I’m sick of this shit.”
Adolescence dropped unexpectedly and the process of becoming an adult does so as well, albeit more gradually. You don’t wake up one day to “surprise! Today you’re an adult.” In fact, most of us don’t ever really feel more grown up than our late adolescence, it’s a condition put upon us by the passing of time and increasing responsibilities that entails. We’re adults because we have to be, not because we asked to be—and that means that some of us never quite get there, either.
So where does the toilet come in? It’s very simple. Part of the process of becoming an adult is establishing a level of autonomy and independence from the environment in which we’re raised. For some, it means moving out of their parents’ house altogether, for others, it means paying them rent or increased levels of autonomy within the household domain. Perhaps separate groceries, perhaps cleaning the house more, but the underlying principle is the increasing of responsibilities. When you move out, in particular, there are endless untold surprises, things that pop up as expenses and inconveniences that we take for granted in the cocoon of our familial homes. Things like toilet paper, food, and yes, even the toilet.
Much like adulthood, the toilet is always there, and it is always a necessity, whether we like it or not. We are physically obligated to use it, and for the interest of our health and sanitation, we are obligated to clean it. When you leave home, whether it was your responsibility or not previously, it is yours now. The consequences are heavy if it doesn’t get done, even if it’s easier to put off indefinitely. So it takes much of the motivation and willpower that could be spent, say, watching the television or on the internet, to get up, put the gloves on, and get intimate with the porcelain bowl. It takes acknowledging a continual responsibility and addressing it consistently and with an effort and skill adequate to ensure that you’re not putting your health at risk because of the state of your toilet, to say nothing of the embarrassment of inviting guests over to a filthy home.
Cleaning the toilet isn’t fun. It isn’t sexy, nor is it a particularly noteworthy event, something to recount to friends and family after accomplishing. It’s just one of the things we’re obligated to do, thanklessly. Being an adult is often like that.
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