monday musing . . . or amusing, as the case may be

I took Friday off work. It was Eldest's birthday. I needed to get stuff done for her party. I needed to be home for a plumber's visit. I needed to scan pictures so I could blog about my baby girl turning 15 (btw, I also put that up on my Facebook account so she and her friends could see it!) I needed to have lunch with an old friend. You get the picture . . . I needed a day off.

The plumber arrived. He was a nice enough guy. Not the kind that is creepy. A little too talkative, but he was ok. We gave him three tasks: bid a potential job in our basement, replace the front-outside faucet (it had a permanent leak) and figure out what the heck is going on with our first-floor toilet. You see, the first-floor commode has been a pain of late. Sometimes it would back-up if you so much as pee. So you can just imagine the problems if you completed any other business in that particular lavoratory. We were plunging four, five, six times a day. Car-man had bought some other tool he was using, all to no avail. So we gave in and hired Mr. Plumber.

Mr. Plumber quickly looks everything over and gives me job prices. The outside faucet was going to be $400. Holy crapples! The toilet was going to be almost $200 by the time he removed it, figured out the problem and replaced the wax ring. Goodie. Never mind the potential major construction in the basement . . . not with THIS ridiculously expensive company. (I'm so glad Car-man made the appointment and not me!) I love unexpected expenses. Oh. And some added joyness? Replacing the faucet will require that he cut a hole in our basement ceiling . . . in a newly refinished room. Sigh.

After a little consultations with Car-man on the phone (he is sure we are being ripped off), we decide to go ahead with the work. We just want it DONE.

I return to dutifully blogging about Eldest's birthday.

After removing the toilet and hauling it to our front yard for examination, the Mr. Plumber comes back and ominously says, "Ma'am? I need to show you something." Not good. Not good at all.

He shows me that the plug is in a 90 degree turn above a level that can be reached. It is something like a "Q-tip" caught across the pipe. He explains he knows this because . . . . blah, blah, blah. I'm not listening. I'm thinking, "Yeah. Yeah. So what's it going to cost me?" His end-point is that we have to have a new toilet. Price? $750. Oh, but this means the faucet will only be $250! I feel so special. What a deal. But . . . he doesn't have the toilet with him (which, upon reflection, seems fair enough but it still made me mad at the time). He needs to come back in the afternoon. He completes the faucet and we set a time for him to return after my lunch.

Mr. Plumber totally took his own sweet time coming back after lunch. In the end, I didn't have time to shower before the birthday party. But that's not the best news. . .

The doorbell rings. It's Mr. Plumber. He says, "Hi. Well, I've experienced a first today." I just look at him and think, "What? A crazy suburban lady smacked you upside the head?" He continues, "Well, let me put it this way. Do you have a beautiful daughter, with hair just about your color, whose name is Younger?" My mind begins spinning. Is he a pervert? Is he one of her friend's dads? Was he looking through our stuff in the basement? Pretty much I'm just thinking, "EWWWW!"

I recover enough to hesitantly say, "Yes." He reaches into his pocket (!!!!), pulling out something he hands to me and says, "I thought so. This is what was blocking your toilet." This is what he handed to me:

Her middle school ID card. OMG. I am SOOO going to kill her. Can't you just see her accidentally dropping it in the pot and then deciding she's not going to retrieve it? Remind you she's 13. I'm sure her thinking was that, "It'll flush away, right?" (In the interest of fair reporting . . . Younger claims she had no idea the card fell out of her pocket. She did know it was missing and had purchased a replacement at school but she didn't know where she lost it. Also, for the record, I DON'T BELIEVE HER FOR A SINGLE MINUTE.)

Now pause with me for a moment. Did he just hand me that card? Am I holding in my hand something that has been clogging up our toilet for a month or so!?! Erp. And wait, he told me he couldn't fix the toilet. He couldn't remove the clog. So just how did he extract this gross card? He explained that he was just too curious so he took a sledgehammer to the toilet to see what was causing the clog! Who does that? Who is SOOOO curious that they sledgehammer SOMEONE ELSE'S toilet to discover the cause of a clog. Really? I am still to eww'ed out by this that it makes my stomach roll.

We plan on making fun of Younger for the rest of her life about her $750 toilet. I told her it's her next birthday and Christmas present rolled into one. We've threatened to have a plaque made reading, "Younger's Toilet"! She does not find us amusing. But it's either continuous mocking or we'd have to kill her. I don't think I'd like jail food.
Today, you get the toilet house! (Don't believe me? www.offbeathomes.com/the-toilet-house/)