double double toilet trouble
Saturday was my "golden" birthday: I turned 29 on the 29th!
Stuart kept himself busy.
First, he baked me a cake:
And then he accidentally flushed a cloth diaper down our one and only toilet, rendering it useless for a full 16 hours until a plumber could get here. This happened around 7:00 in the evening, so we went all night without a decent place to pee. When it became obvious that the diaper was not to be extricated without the aid of a professional, I called a plumber. Evidently, last weekend was National Clog Your Toilet Day in Madison because of all 24-hr plumbing places I called, only one bothered to call back and he said it would be the middle of the night before anyone could get here, if at all, because they were so busy with calls. By 11:00, things were getting desperate. Stu and his dad "melted some snow" in the backyard under cover of darkness, but my MIL and I, being female and also unwilling to bare our bums and squat in the snow in 10-degree weather, decided to go to a nearby fast food joint to relieve ourselves. On the way out of the driveway, I noticed that our neighbors across the street were still up, so I pulled back into the driveway where I left the car and all my dignity, and knocked at their door. Of course they let us pee in their toilet because they are kind and gracious people, but the last time we imposed on them, it was to drop Daniel off for the night because we were heading to the hospital when Anya was born. We owe these people. Big. Time.
Sunday morning the plumber showed up at 11:30. We'd been out to breakfast at Lazy Jane's, so we'd all had the chance to use the bathroom in a decent and sanitary manner, but I was still VERY glad to see his van pull up. Of course, it took about 10 seconds to pull the diaper out of the U-bend...and you don't want to know how much it cost. I think we can safely say Stu won't be making THAT mistake again.
Happy Birthday to me...
Stuart kept himself busy.
First, he baked me a cake:
And then he accidentally flushed a cloth diaper down our one and only toilet, rendering it useless for a full 16 hours until a plumber could get here. This happened around 7:00 in the evening, so we went all night without a decent place to pee. When it became obvious that the diaper was not to be extricated without the aid of a professional, I called a plumber. Evidently, last weekend was National Clog Your Toilet Day in Madison because of all 24-hr plumbing places I called, only one bothered to call back and he said it would be the middle of the night before anyone could get here, if at all, because they were so busy with calls. By 11:00, things were getting desperate. Stu and his dad "melted some snow" in the backyard under cover of darkness, but my MIL and I, being female and also unwilling to bare our bums and squat in the snow in 10-degree weather, decided to go to a nearby fast food joint to relieve ourselves. On the way out of the driveway, I noticed that our neighbors across the street were still up, so I pulled back into the driveway where I left the car and all my dignity, and knocked at their door. Of course they let us pee in their toilet because they are kind and gracious people, but the last time we imposed on them, it was to drop Daniel off for the night because we were heading to the hospital when Anya was born. We owe these people. Big. Time.
Sunday morning the plumber showed up at 11:30. We'd been out to breakfast at Lazy Jane's, so we'd all had the chance to use the bathroom in a decent and sanitary manner, but I was still VERY glad to see his van pull up. Of course, it took about 10 seconds to pull the diaper out of the U-bend...and you don't want to know how much it cost. I think we can safely say Stu won't be making THAT mistake again.
Happy Birthday to me...
Comments
You might want to put that plumber's number on the fridge.
Happy birthday!
You could ask for a toilet auger for your birthday and it might be cheaper in the long run. You can get a cheap version for about $10.00 and professional version for about $30.00. I can't count the number of times it has saved my skin.