The Toilet Paper Monitor.

There ain’t no free ride at our joint. Everyone is expected to pull their weight, pull up their socks, shape up or ship out and get shit done.

This is mainly because one day I had just finished making dinner, having used every bloody pot in the joint. The family hoovered up that meal like pigs at a trough before thanking me and scattering, leaving me sitting there with all of this shit around me.

I called a family meeting then and there. I was over making the mess, cleaning the mess, making the mess, cleaning the mess and so on and so on.

Things were about to change.

I had let them get away with this bad behaviour for far too long. It was my responsibility to correct the errors of my own ways. Give an inch and take a mile and all that jazz.

So now, having taken them through domestic rehabilitation, I have more time to do the important things. Like watching Ellen.

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Balling socks while I watch Ellen

But there is one job that remains the most important. And it is that of the TOILET PAPER MONITOR.

Jack is the Toilet Paper Monitor at our place. He relishes this title, as he does any title that may lend a hint of authority. I mean, every day since his first day at Kindy he has been not he SRC. He thrives on power.

Being the TPM, your role includes stacking the bulk bought bog roll away in the storage facility designated to the wiping of assholes.  But the job description is so much more than that,

Have you ever sat down on the dunny, finished your business, only to be faced with this?

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Complete disaster! Well, much like Pavlov trained his dog, I have done the same to my son. Now, when faced with this common dilemma, I have the solution.

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You can ring my bell! Jack will stop whatever he is doing, and will deliver you a fresh roll. He can hear this bell from anywhere in the neighbourhood. He is like a toilet paper zombie. It could just be the best $5 I have ever spent.

FOR THERE WILL BE NO SKID MARKS IN MY HOUSE.

Do you put your kids to work?

Anyone else’s other half like to read magazines on the toilet?