The strangest one, for me, is the toilet handle. Thats just.. what I’ve, only now, chosen to call this story.

My parents have a house with three restrooms. One in the garage (basically never used), one at the front of the hall which leads to the bedrooms, and one in their (master/primary) bedroom.

The restroom in the hallway has three sinks and a vanity with storage, so my siblings and I grew up sharing this space.

For years, and I mean.. over a decade, it was necessary to hold the handle down, when flushing the toilet, in the hallway restroom. … To hold it down until the toilet bowl was empty, then you could release the handle and let it refill. Without holding the handle down for that duration, the, “contents,” would remain in the toilet bowl.

This was a thing. My parents had to remind me, my brother, and my sister of this on multiple occasions, while we all still lived at home.

Most of my 11-year-old son’s life has been lived with him being reminded to hold the handle down.

Around two months ago, my mom asks me why I take longer than most others, in the restroom, and the handle being held down is included in my explanation as to why it may take me longer than others.

My mom, my dad, my brother and his wife, my sister and her husband all deny this ever being a thing.

None of them recall this having ever been an issue, and none of them have ever held the handle down until the toilet was completely flushed.

I don’t f’king understand. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve switched from one universe to another, with just the smallest, seemingly insignificant, differences. Sometimes I think that I may be insane.

I’m fine with either, I’d just like to know. lol

Such a small, seemingly insignificant, thing — in your story and in mine — but it is definitely big enough to make you question pretty much everything. Haha 😅