Hip-Hip-Hooray, An Ode to my Bidet!

Ride or Die, aqua buddy!

I did not know there would come a day,

When I would love all things bidet.

In Europe, I met this puzzling chair,

A separate fixture, incomplete and bare.

Without a seat for my derriere,

No guide in sight to show me where.

Do I squat or stand over the upward stream?

Or balance myself on this rimless beam?

But then I journeyed to the island of Japan,

A land of decorum and graceful plan.

Each washroom a soothing, clean affair,

The how-to instructions clear on every ware.

Wipe the surface with a cleansing foam,

Take a seat and feel at home.

If modesty hits while doing number two,

Press a button for a noise-canceling gentle coo.

Two separate sprays for the front and back,

A perfectionist’s dream, a hygiene hack.

Finished at last, requiring paper few,

Squeaky clean as the morning dew.

Some bidets come with lights, remote controls, lids automated,

My fascination is always unabated.

Back home in the divided United States,

My hubby installed these magical washlets post haste.

A fancy automatic device for the primary bedroom,

Simpler manual models for other loos.

Now, post-workout, fresh as flowers,

My nether regions are cleansed for hours.

The ecosystem, the biome, that is south of my equator,

Flourishes daily and has never been greater.

An ordinary stool, an average throne,

They have no place in my domicile zone.

They say, once you go bidet, you’ll never go back,

My bidet-chaired life, a luxurious, world-class fact.