Notes on the Bathroom Wastepaper Basket.

Dear Family,

In keeping with my policy of attempting to educate the uninformed, which began here, I shall now explain how the wastepaper basket works.

The one in the bathroom is small, for a couple of very good reasons.  First, it needs to fit into a very small space...it's not as if our bathroom is a luxurious accommodation or anything, and second, the faster it becomes full, the faster it gets emptied.

Theoretically.

Apparently, there are people who live here who assume that the bottom of the basket contains a direct conduit to the netherworld.  Although that would be nice (or at least a chute to the kitchen garbage can), I must inform one and all that, sadly, it is not the case.  Here comes the physics lesson:  you can cram only so much in there before it spills out onto the floor. So, there comes a point when anything you try to add to the full container just bounces off.  A point where not one more Q-tip will fit in there. As water splashes out of the tub, things on the floor become somewhat damp.  No one wants to handle anything damp that is down between the tub and the toilet.  This is a fact of life.

To some, this would be a signal that the basket needs to be emptied, but my family is made of sterner stuff.  At Camp Runamuck, it becomes a challenge:  how long will it take until someone can no longer stand it?

This morning, it was I.

As a side note, I never venture into The Teen's room.  Because, you know...ick.  But I suspect the wastepaper basket in his room is probably full, too.  Otherwise, why would there be paper plates, pop tart wrappers and water bottles in the bathroom one?  I'm pretty sure even he is not barbarian enough to be snacking in the bathroom...

And, good god Maude...how often does he clean his ears?  Because his earwax harvest is off the charts!  Seriously...I should be trying to figure out a market for that stuff.

Anyway, having already grossed out all of you, I won't mention the other unmentionable crud I found.  Suffice it to say that there was almost a full second bag by the time I got it sorted.

Come on, you lot!  Take the bag downstairs; put a new one in.  It takes a lot less time and it's a lot less gross when you do it as the level in the basket approaches full, rather than waiting until it threatens to take over the bathroom.

Thank you for your attention,

GaGa,
(who ain't yer maid)