Tiny House Bathrooms

We do have two. Thank you Jesus! With all of the children, I can't imagine having one. I know it can be done, I just can't imagine it. And I don't want to.
I'm quite certain that had we only an outhouse, we'd still dig a second one.
And then I'd lable one for girls and one for boys.
Oh, yes, I would.
The older boy is being trained as an apprentice bathroom scrubber. It seems his internship will last ages, and I see little hope of his graduation to journeyman.
I want my little boys to sit, you know. But someone told them they could stand.
I am hunting that person down.
Whoever that person is, I want them to have to smell my bathroom.
They even know that cutesy little poem "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie." They know it, but they just laugh.
So, once a week, armed with borax and a toothbrush and some rags, Older Boy goes off to the gulag and scrubs a toilet.
"How long does this have to be my chore?!?!?" He wails.
"Until there is no longer a nasty buildup!" I say.
"Ohhhhh..." He groans.
I realize this isn't an issue only in a tiny house.
What makes THIS a tiny house issue, is that when the door to that bathroom is open, the smell wafts into the hall. It hides there, at the entrance to the hall way and builds it's self up to something quite substantial, then it smacks you in the olfactory and uses your movement to waft into the front rooms.
This is so wrong. So terribly wrong.
Next lesson, sweaty socks...