Nothing brings up that "ugh!" feeling for me quite like a clogged toilet.
Sometime last week our downstairs toilet started acting up. Not fully flushing,
draining slowly, and resisting our attempts to plunge.
Then, over the weekend, while I was away with girlfriends, what we were
hoping to avoid took place. Overflowing. And lots of it, so I'm told.
And that's all I'll say about that. Your welcome.
My poor hubs dealt with the aftermath. This morning, with friends coming
to town this weekend, we broke down and called the plumber.

I was pretty certain the reason for our plumbing woes would take
us directly back to Tank.
We have been in toilet training purgatory for some time now. Tank is
most interested in the flushing process and loves that he now has the okay
to flush the toilet. He has taken great license with this over the last
couple weeks. Most recently
I grabbed a dishtowel about to make it's decent into the bowels of our plumbing
as Tank stood wide-eyed over the toilet looking guilty.
So, I was pretty sure that Tank was behind it all.
This was confirmed approximately 20 minutes into the plumbers visit when
I heard the sound of cackling coming from the bathroom. He walked out
holding up the evidence.

A $75 toothbrush that is now resting in our garbage can.


greg said...

I like thinking of you asking the plumber to hold up the toothbrush for the camera...

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