Murphy's Law

What can go wrong, will always go wrong in this household.

In the continuing saga of what will fall apart next, last week I noticed a crack in the toilet seat. It didn't look that bad, so I figured it could wait until this coming weekend when DH had several days off and we were planning to head to Lowe's to get a few items anyways.

DH always leaves the lid up. I figure as long as it's not the bottom half itself, it's a battle I am not fighting for now (well, until toys make their way into it... but that's not a problem yet)

So when I climbed out of my nice steamy shower a few minutes ago, and huffed and puffed to get my looking-pudgier-by-the-day leg onto the seat so I could attempt to huff and puff some more, and figure out how to bend over far enough to dry between my toes, I certainly wasn't expecting any excitement.

Oh no, I certainly wasn't expecting the toliet ring to split in half and go flying across the room faster than a speeding bullet. Luckily for the dog, she wasn't in it's flight path.

I stood there for a few minutes not knowing whether to laugh or cry. I think I did both for a few seconds.

So now I have half a toliet seat. (You are snickering as you are reading this, aren't you?) I contemplated duct taping it back together, since DH won't be home before any stores around here close for the night - except, the duct tape is in the car, with DH. I've got about 9 hours give or take before he's home.

Sigh.

The sad part? We just replaced the toliet seat when we moved into this place last December. Behold the beauty of made in China home improvement pieces from Wal*Mart.

(Did I mention my dryer wasn't drying properly last night?)