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It wasn't the first time he'd done it, and Carla knew full well that it wouldn't be the last. Trying to prise herself free, she just had to ask herself why was it so hard for him to put the toilet seat down?

"Chris," she shouted, still removing herself from the bowl. "I've told you a million times to put that bloody toilet seat down!"

Chris, eyes glued to the television, barely blinked. He simply muttered back, "sorry dear," and continued to watch the football, taking a loud slurp of his beer as he did so. This argument was not new to him, but he didn't care enough about it to change.

"Oh, gee, thanks honey," Carla shot back sarcastically, "that makes it all right".

"Well what am I supposed to say?" Chris asked, still more focused on the football than he was his wife.

"Don't say anything," she snapped, rubbing her sore back, "just start putting the seat down. Do you have any idea how much it hurts when I go crashing into the bowl like that?"

This last comment snapped Chris away from the football. He was now fully involved in the argument.

"Well why don't you look before sitting down? It's not like you can't see it when you walk in".

"Why should I look? If you did what I asked in the first place then there'd be no need".

"C'mon Carla, it's not bloody rocket science, it's a damn toilet. The lid is on a hinge, it goes down and up. Why is this concept so difficult for women to grasp!"

"Oh, OK genius, if it is such an easy process, why haven't YOU been able to learn that when it isn't being used, the toilet seat should always be left down."

"Because I don't see why it has too, you need it down, I need it up. Are you that selfish that you honestly think I should change the toilet habits I have had my entire life just to suit your need to sit down while having a pee?"

"That's just typical of you. You do as little as possible and expect me to pick up the slack!"

It was now obvious to Chris that this argument had changed. This was no longer about the toilet seat.

"Oh, I see, you're annoyed with me watching the footy."

"Well it would be nice to have a hand around the house. I can't get two minutes of your time when the football season is on."

This last comment really hit the spot with Chris. He stood up and threw his empty beer can in the trash. He then turned around to face his wife, not knowing if he should defend himself against her tirade, or simply let it go for the sake of peace.

"Do you have any idea how much I do around here?" he asked, choosing self defense. "Aside from putting

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