After yesterday's fiasco, I made a decision: When fate throws a load of hooey at me, DO NOT turn on the radio. I can't tell you how many times that dang radio has mocked me, and it's usually when I'm having one of those crappy, over the top, hellish days. I mean, seriously, the sign song plays AFTER I ask for a stupid sign WHILE I'm standing in my birthday suit with toilet toes. Really?! I hate that damn song...always have...hate it more now, I must say.
So, no radio when the crap starts piling up. CD's only. Christmas CD's, to be exact. Happy holiday music lightens my spirit every time I hear it. Besides, stinky fate can't compete with anything Christmas or holy, right?
Terrible Toilet: Oh, it's so messed up. I literally don't want to flush the dang thing. It bubbles, spits, wheezes, and the water in the bowl doesn't ripple, it swirls or spins. It also does this fill-recede-fill-recede thing that it never did before. Odd. So, who's a girl gonna call? Toiletbusters!!! Otherwise known as a girl's daddy.
In walks my dad--the look on his face was somewhere between amused and shocked. He took in the sadly crumpled, oddly misshapen throw rug, the obtrusive garbage bag, and towels I used to mop up the mess, all laying in the tub, and sighed, "It sure looked like a great party."
Funny. "I'm just making absolutely certain everything dries before bringing it downstairs," I said, trying to avoid what I knew was coming. "Um, so, yeah, then I'll have to scrub the tub, but I didn't know where else to put everything and I didn't want to drag it through the place and the garbage doesn't come until later in the week, so..." I just kept rattling on, hoping...but then I looked at his face...it was coming...any second...and there it goes...
My dad's laughter is something out of a Hanna Barbera cartoon--it just compels you to laugh...so I did.
After clearing away the laughter tears, he observed my toilet. He looked into the back part and started pointing things out, explaining what each thing does.
Uh-huh. I felt like I was in Charlie Brown's world and my dad was one of the teachers. Wah wah woh wah woh. The only words that remotely resembled English with me were: "faulty," "replacement," "float," "Home Depot."
As far as I know, something needs to be replaced and the Home Depot probably has it, I think...
Until then, no radio and flush with caution.
*giggle*... thanks darlin.. i needed that!
ReplyDeletelol too cute-I used to live in this apartment where the toilet water boiled??? Can you freaking believe that-no one would so I showed them it steaming and bubbling one day... never solved that mystery but hey I bet your dad could of ....
ReplyDeleteThere is nobody else I can imagine calling either...it's always my Daddy who swoops in to make everything okay again...even if that does mean laughing at my misfortune. Reading that made me cry...what a sweet relationship to have.
ReplyDeleteOn the other things...hahaha. Sorry...but that's still damn funny!
How very embarrassing.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you have your Dad to help you! I just sat in my car and cried when the renters in my house called to say they had a leak and when I went to check it out there was a damn lake under the house! 2 foot of water-waste completely covering the crawl space under a 1500 sq ft house! Yes ALL I could do was cry! Hopefully you got it before it went too far!
ReplyDeleteI've had to get my Daddy help via the phone before regarding a toilet. Luckily it was an easy fix, and I didn't have to run to a store or anything. We all have to call our Daddy to come fix our toilets . . . or something. Glad he got you to laugh over it! :o)
ReplyDeleteI only wish I could call my Dad to come fix such things. Lucky girl...on the dad thing..not the toilet thing. ick
ReplyDeleteI totally didn't get the "fix it" gene, which is distressing as a dude, so I would also feel like you did in listening to your dad.
ReplyDeleteMy step-dad is a mechanic, and he'll take a look at my car from time to time. He will then explain what is wrong with me, but all I hear is, "This will cost you money, RUN!" I can't even change my own oil.
Reading about your dad reminded me of my own. I was always a total daddy's girl and my daughter had the same bond with him. He was this really conservative guy who was kind of a quiet person, but loved to "visit" with people he knew and he had this warped sense of humor that you just didn't expect. Man, do I miss him.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad he was able to get things all fixed up for you and I hope you don't ever have to endure toilet toes again. I suppose the one positive (at least for me) would be that I'd have the perfect reason to make a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond to buy a new bath rug and come home with all sorts of little doo-dads that I probably didn't really need. LOL I'm a horrible impulse shopper.
Here's hoping that you have a much better rest of the week my friend. Martha
Toilets scare me. Especially non-functioning public ones. Yuccch.
ReplyDeleteficklecattle.blogspot.com
True-I grew up on a farm with a well and sometimes we would NOT have water in the house. That mean lining the potty with plastic trash bags to do #2 and peeing in a bucket. I wish I could still have fear and intimidation about plumbing...
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you have your Daddy around to help you! Daddys are so neat! I've got a really good one myself!
My exhusband was a plumber. The last thing he wanted to do when he got home was fix the toilet. So, I can fix and replace almost anything in the bathroom myself. Which is good, because even though my uncle's my plumber... I can't afford him for little things. But, I can offer him my house for the weekend if he renovates the bathroom for me :)
ReplyDelete