So we decided to do some updates on my dads house when we lived with him. There was a couple of hours that the toilet was unhooked and Brother House, the construction worker, told my dad not to use the toilet as it was in the hall. Hours later, Brother House informed me my dad had filled it with pee. We had to rehook the toilet and it had to be emptied by hand...the 1 cup measuring cup fit and had to be sacrificed. I had no gloves and had to dip out the pee with the measuring cup. Meanwhile Brother House was kind of getting after my dad and telling him, "Now your daughter has to spoon it out by hand!" The measuring cup was thrown away and I thought things were good...but they weren't...not at all.
The "getting after" by Brother House had sunk in. It had sunk in very well. My dad stopped peeing in the toilet and started peeing in pint canning jars. After all they are so versatile and he had so many of them! I would go in his bedroom in the morning and they would be lined up like trophies. The number of pint canning jars drastically reduced in that house for the next few weeks!
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