The TUSHY Classic Bidet Cleans My Undercarriage—and My Conscience

When I told my wife that I planned to install the TUSHY Classic bidet attachment in our bathroom, she looked at me first with bemusement, which quickly gave way to grave concern. This was toward the beginning of self-quarantine and her patience with my cooped-up sense of humor was already wearing thin. "How does it work?" she asked, her voice teetering between abject terror and morbid curiosity. "More importantly...why?"

I had anticipated her skepticism and rattled off a list of prepared reasons why now was the right time for a bidet: no more fist fights with strangers at Costco for the last pack of Charmin Ultra ; we'd properly protect our butts from disease and infection; if we really gave a damn about climate change, we'd acknowledge that bidets are better for the planet . But my most important reason, which seemed to convince her, was "Why not?"

The Tushy Classic Bidet Review

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Installing the bidet attachment was a cinch, and I did a great job reading the directions while my wife (who's handy) did all the actual work. TUSHY's classic model fits in under the toilet seat, and connects to the same water source that you use to flush your commode. The controls look sort-of like the front of a stereo, with a dial you turn to increase the water pressure of the bidet blast, and also to self-clean the nozzle. There's also a switch that allows you to control the angle of the nozzle, which is kind of like playing one of those carnival games with the water gun and the bullseye, except the bullseye is your butt crack.

TUSHY makes two models, and I have the more basic "Classic." The main distinction is their slightly pricier "Spa" model includes temperature controls, while the Classic is only ice-cold. And to be completely honest, that frigid laser-beam straight to the tuchus has become a treasured part of my morning routine. It's refreshing, it's exhilarating, and it just feels cleaner. You know that feeling you have after a really rejuvenating shower? It's like that, but on the dirtiest part of your body. I only need to use two squares of toilet paper each time I go, so we haven't burned through our modest TP reserves like so many other people.

I used to scoff at bidets like so many others, dismissing it as an exotic novelty. Using a bidet felt oddly... un-American? But whether it's dipping fries in mayonnaise, universal healthcare, or cleaning up post-No. 2 with a torrent of water, I've realized there are so many areas where America is behind the curve in relation to the rest of the world.

But none of these traditions are written stone. We, the people, can choose our destiny when it comes to rectal hygiene. I'm a Bidet Boy nowand I'm never going back.