All Things Anne

If you’re still here after that ominous warning, let me warn you again.

YOU JUST MIGHT NOT WANT TO READ THIS POST.

Here goes.

A few days ago, perhaps close to a week or so ago, the girls’ bathroom toilet clogged up. (It’s the girls’ bathroom, called so to distinguish it from the boys’ bathroom and Mom and Dad’s bathroom.) I plungered it a few times with not-so-satisfactory results. Mom tried plungering it, decided it was usable again, and left it at that. Unfortunately, we soon found it out was not usable again.

Mom called her dad, who runs a hardware store and is a literal handyman. He said either get a snake (not a real one, the kind of snake you find in a plumbing department) or remove the toilet, which Mom was afraid of.

Dad’s boss let him come home for three days over New Year’s, but Mom decided not to do it then because Dad hates plumbing. (Once, at our old house, he replaced the kitchen sink, which gave him a nice cut across the wrist which turned into a scar that looks like he tried to commit suicide.) So this afternoon, after having purchased a snake, and after watching videos of impossibly clean studio toilets being unclogged, Mom, Joe, and Eric undertook the job.

They had a bright idea and brought the wheelbarrow into the hall, then lifted the toilet into the wheelbarrow, tilted forward. Joe was elected to use the snake. He put on gloves and started forcing the snake up from the bottom of the toilet, but soon had to stop, gagging. Rase had the gas mask handy, and gave it to him.

He fished around a little more, and pushed the clog out. Mom took a peek and looked like she was about to toss her cookies. Joe gagged and coughed under his gas mask. He assured me he wouldn’t throw up in there though. He went into the kitchen to wash his hands or something and left Eric to hold the toilet in the wheelbarrow. Then another catastrophe happened. Eric held on to the lid, but that wasn’t enough. The toilet fell over, taking the wheelbarrow with it. The lid came off in his hand.

“AAHH! ERIC!!” I said. Mom, from the kitchen, groaned.
Joe came over and helped him right the toilet/wheelbarrow, and said “EW!!! The plug landed on Bethy’s shirt!” (there was some laundry in front of my door). At that point, Mom was about ready to toss her cookies.
“Just kidding!” Joe said. “But some water did get on her shirt. Clean water.”
We were all relieved.

They put the toilet back, and Mom said, “If anything still doesn’t work, I’m calling a plumber!”