I have never really been one to keep on top of the whole toilet scrubbing thing. When I was a bachelorette with my own pad, I would go a few weeks without getting the scrub brush out. Thinking back, it explains why I was reluctant to invite people back to mine. It was because I was ashamed of the state of the bathroom--that and the fact that my apartment was the size of a postage stamp.
Anyway, it's twenty years later, and nothing has changed. I am still loathe to invite anyone to my home for fear that nature might call during their visit, and I would be forced to ask my guests to visit the nearest petrol station to use the toilet there--because it would be cleaner.
I was warned by my mother-in-law that this would be a problem. I think it was when my youngest son was born. It was evident that I was going to be outnumbered by boys, and she reflected back on the state of her toilet whilst her four sons were growing up. She could foresee what battle I had in store for me in trying to keep it even remotely sanitary. She offered me this piece of advice: "when you have boys, you never under any circumstances have one of those furry bathmats, no matter how cold the tile may be. They are just a magnet for the wee and you will never get rid of the smell". These words of wisdom I have taken on board, and to date, I have never purchased a furry bathmat.
What my mum-in-law didn't tell me was the fact that the minute I cleaned the toilet, the thing would be filthy within minutes. Trying to clean the grime is like fighting off a swarm of insects, every swat you take, the more they come at you from all sides. I have removed the toilet seat, soaked the floor, scrubbed away at the porcelain, and no matter what I do, the smell comes back.
MasterFive has a sensitive nose. He can smell a gnat fart in China. There are no secret toots in this household, because he'll surely call you on it. When he grows up, I think he should work in a perfumery in Paris. I hear that they employ people solely for the purpose of smelling the fragrances. With this ability to smell things, you can imagine that the battle that I have with ridding the bathroom of its foul odors is wreaking havoc with his hypersensitive olfactory organ.
Thus, he has decided that, when the need arises, he prefers to use Mum's toilet (we have an en suite off the master bedroom that is reserved for the only female in the household--moi). Mum's toilet is not shared by three males, so it smells better.
Unfortunately, he is also the most likely culprit who, when he is weeing, gets distracted and neglects to contain all the wee in the toilet. Oh, and he forgets to put the seat up. It is like a wee sprinkler has gone off in that room.
So, not only does the main bathroom assault the senses, so does my sanctuary. I need one of those self-cleaning toilet cubicles that completely disinfect as soon as you leave the room...make that two. Until the time that I acquire such a magical self-disinfecting room, can we go to yours for coffee instead of mine?