Jiggle the handle, kids, you have to jiggle the handle

If you live with another person, or several other persons, there are things they do regularly that annoy you.

That's just how it works. It could be something simple like not putting their plate in the dishwasher, or leaving the cap to the toothpaste on the bathroom sink.

We had seven people living in our house for several years, so there were many of these little botherances. I once wrote an entire post urging my children to pick up blankets off the basement floor. Another post featured photos of messes left by my family around the house for someone else to clean up.

For the record, neither of those things was ever truly resolved.

Now we're down two people, yet there are still things about which I feel the need to constantly remind the denizens of this house. One of those is jiggling the handle on the toilet in the kitchen bathroom.

That toilet hasn't been right in years. Even installing a new handle/flushing mechanism wasn't enough to make it so that it would reliably flush, fill back up with water, and be ready for the next user.

Unless the previous occupant of said bathroom is considerate enough to wait an extra few seconds to ensure everything is working well with the toilet and the water isn't going to run forever and ever, chances are the half-full tank will not be ready to sufficiently dispose of whatever the next user deposits into the bowl.

It's just a few extra seconds. And if you find the handle is very loose and the flap in the tank is clearly not seated correctly, all you have to do is jiggle the handle.

Just jiggle the handle. That's it. Then you can go on your merry way.

Recently I walked into the kitchen bright and early at 5:30 in the morning and I heard that toilet running. I'm always the first one up, so there couldn't have been anyone in that bathroom.

And there wasn't. The toilet had been running all night because the last person to use it the previous evening had not followed the instructions above, even though we've tried to convey those instructions in the most understandable of terms.

Relative to life's truly big problems, this is a minor one in the extreme. Yet it frustrates me, because the solution is so simple.

Just jiggle the handle, kids. You have to jiggle that handle.

HEY, FOREIGNERS!

Next week, two Brazilian high school students will arrive in Cleveland and spend 12 days living with my family.

Cool, huh? It's part of a cultural exchange program coordinated by the Cleveland Council on World Affairs and the U.S. State Department. In all, eight students (four girls, four boys) and a teacher will be living with host families around Wickliffe for almost two weeks. The organizers had trouble finding hosts for all of the boys, so while we were already slated to take in a girl, we told them to send us a guy, too.

We're crazy that way.

Actually, we're quite used to having foreign visitors. Every year since 2006, we've housed two young British soccer coaches for a week in June. It's in conjunction with Challenger Sports and the British Soccer Camp, which I coordinate for the Wickliffe Soccer Club. Each year we get a different pair of coaches, but they're always Brits in their early 20's and always very nice guys.

Importantly, they're also always native English speakers. Our two young Brazilian friends will, of course, be Portuguese speakers, though we've been assured that all of the kids are fluent in English, as well.

That's good, because there are certain concepts I would be hard pressed to convey to houseguests who had trouble with English.

"THIS IS THE DOWNSTAIRS TOILET! SOMETIMES IT MAKES A FUNNY NOISE AFTER YOU FLUSH IT, AND YOU HAVE TO JIGGLE THE HANDLE TO GET IT TO STOP!"

I put that in all caps because I'm sure I would talk very loudly to them. It's very much an American thing to raise your voice when trying to make yourself understood by someone who struggles with English. As Howie Mandel once asked, how does this help? If someone came up to you on the street and said, "Ooza macuza boogadooga lambada," and you replied with a look of total incomprehension, would it help in the least bit if they said the same thing over again in a louder voice? ("OOZA MACUZA BOOGADOOGA LAMBADA!!!")

Anyway, I'm glad the language thing won't be a barrier. Not sure about food, though. The soccer coaches are generally not picky and will eat whatever American slop you put in front of them. Will the same be true of teenage Brazilian kids? We'll find out. Luckily, Terry is an excellent cook, and everything she makes is good. Seriously, everything. I would weigh about 112 pounds if I were married to anyone else.

Our female Brazilian guest is named Paula (she's 18), and the boy is Luiz (16). They each have something like 28 last names, because that's what Brazilians do. It's one of about 100 things that make Brazilians cool, in my estimation. Another thing is that they're very touchy-feely people. They have no problem sitting right next to someone they've just met, or talking to you with their face 4 inches from yours. I like that (in the most legal and ethical sense, of course).

In addition to having already hosted foreigners, we also have the advantage of living in a state of constant chaos anyway. Throwing two more people into our seven-person house will make almost no real difference in our daily "routine." I use the quotes there because we have no routine. Life is a constant adventure. Paula and Luiz will probably be here for three days before I even notice them.

While the Brazilians will spend their evenings and weekends with us, the rest of the time they'll be running around Cleveland experiencing all sorts of educational, volunteer and entertainment activities. They're going to do more in this town in 12 days than I've done in a lifetime. Frankly, I'm jealous.

I'll let you know how the whole thing goes. In the meantime, how much do you want to bet I'll end up yelling some incomprehensible English phrase to them at least once while they're here? ("THAT'S JACK. SOMETIMES HE RUNS AROUND THE HOUSE WITH NO PANTS ON. PLEASE IGNORE HIM.")