No seriously. They must have the worst job. Ok, you know what? You're right. They're tied with septic pumpers.
I've had my share of plumbing adventures and every time I look up at my Dad in bewilderment and say "Why does anyone choose to become a plumber?"
The answer is accompanied with a smile and always the same: "Because they need to feed their families."
I stare into space and shake my head slowly.
Then I get back to work.
For some reason, you see, the plumbing lot has always fallen to me. I guess I'm not perceived as busy enough to get out of it or I don't immediately reject the idea and so I get delegated as a willing (or perhaps simply not unwilling) individual.
We call it "voluntold" around here.
I suppose it isn't
particularly gross. And this time it
hardly smelled at all. And it wasn't hard to
fix. So why am I complaining you ask?
Ah, but you mistake me! I complain not, I merely seek to entertain with a glimpse into the odd education that is sometimes thrust upon that most interesting and mysterious race of the Stay-at-Home-Daughter. We really are a most convivial sort.
Occasionally the basement floods from rain and there is a lot of clean up work to do or the sump pump ceases to function and there is a flood of an altogether more detestable sort. This was a mere kitchen flood.
I was sick Monday. That is my excuse. Fevered and lackluster I would not being getting up to sustain myself with food and drink (except water, 'cause, you know, that's supposed to be healthy ;-) let alone clean up after my most adored siblings and their culinary adventures.
Tuesday is well, today. Except it is yesterday because I'm not publishing this till tomorrow, which is actually today. :-) I love watching your brains work.
Tuesday is co-op day and praise be to God I was feeling quite recovered this morning and was perhaps my energy levels only lapsed because I didn't bother to eat much after breakfast.
Anywho. The family was gone to co-op and I was hear all by my lonesome studying literature, most intriguing of all how to read and analyze and interpret poems. You know, I've never given poems enough notice...
Needless to say in my academic endeavors I did no kitchen work and cleaned no dishes (I didn't make any dirty dishes either, but apparently that is irrelevant). So now on this Tuesday evening the kitchen is piled high with dishes from 48 or possible 56 hours before.
Don't even mention it, I'm already embarrassed.
Well, I'd nothing better to do at 9PM (except go to bed and continue recovery or waste some time on line and stay up super late writing this extremely long blog post that probably no on else is going to read...moving on!) so I decided to do something about the sorry state of the kitchen.
I start loading the dishwasher and putting the dirty dishes on the right side of sink and organizing everything so that I can work efficiently when it is brought to my attention that the pipe below the sink has been dripping and that it must be backed up because there are four inches of filthy water in both sides of the sink underneath stack of dishes.
Eeesshh. I stop humming. Time to really buckle down. I'm not squeamish folks, but I do avoid putting my hands in filthy water whenever possible.
It was a dark orangish/yellow/brown mixture with food from who-knows-what-meal floating in it and isolated lillypads of cool grease (presumably bacon?). I fished some junk out of the bottom and when my hands emerged again -- slimy, cold and smelly -- The water droplets formed neat little pockets atop the greasy grime.
Oh Joy. Well, we're already this far in and we've simply got to fix it. Daddy has to study tonight because he has got books to read and papers due. Mommy is painting in the bathroom, Than is half asleep because he had basketball practice this evening, Hudson is mentally tired after co-op and drama and is probably practicing cello. Emily, frankly, would not be any help.
Thankfully I'm wearing my "AIR FORCE SISTER" T-shirt to remind that "No guts, no glory." Not that I'm going for glory. I'd just as soon have a clean kitchen and a happy family...and this stuff OFF OF MY HANDS!!!
So, after all of this it really was a simple fix. My Dad just stuck a hanger down the hole and jiggled whatever nefarious substance was there loose so the standing water would drain. Some soap, boiling water, paper towel, unscrewing of PVC, draining of water, cleaning of some soot color muck out of said PVC and reattachment of the same everything was fixed and I finished loading the dishwasher and did half of the handwash!
You'll thank me someday for not posting pictures when you're sink clogs someday.
And there you have it! Today's
Adventure in Domestica!
...to be continued
