No, I didn’t break another toilet seat lid. I wish I had.
The bathroom is 5′ square, plenty of room for a shower and toilet because the entire room is the shower stall, like on a boat, RV, or budget Asian accommodations. The plastic toilet seat lid is domed, probably to make it stronger or let the water run off.
The bathroom has a floor drain so it was the obvious place to transfer water from the 6 liter jug into some 1.5 liter bottles that fit better into the fridge. When I sat on the seat lid it flexed, dropping me what felt like at least an inch. It didn’t break, so I went ahead with the water pour, after making a mental note not to sit on the lid ever again for fear it would break. What happened next was memorable, so I needn’t have bothered with the mental note.
Did I mention I was wearing only boxers, my prefered indoor tropical dress for maximum exposure to the breezes of the oscillating fan? Anyway, as I rose off the seat, it flexed back to its original shape. No, that’s not right: It popped back into shape.
The rebounding seat flicked me in the two places on my body where I least like to receive any contact that has enough force to be considered an impact.