The plumber is at my house right now. I’ve been having trouble with my toilet for a couple of weeks. It hasn’t been flushing very well. Saturday it died on me. Of course, the only way to know for certain if a toilet can handle flushing a, um, big load***, is to try it! However, if it doesn’t flush, then you are stuck with a bowl full of, well, you know. So, being absolutely horrified to face anyone in my bathroom who is trying to repair the toilet, what with everything still there from two days ago, I left a key hidden on my front porch. When the plumber called me to meet him at my house, I told him where the key was and told him not to let my dogs escape. If he’s still there at 5:00, when I get off work, I’m going to keep driving.
***Practically every blog I read discusses Poop at one time or another. I’d vowed never to write about it on mine. I never have been good at keeping vows.
2 comments:
AH! classic, vanessa. it is a fact of life and you handled it with dignity.
on the other hand, what if he was a super-cute plumber like on Desperate Housewives? look what you might have missed out on...
Precisely the reason I didn't want to be home and face him! I'd never be able to live it down.
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