My Wasted Moment of Brilliance For the Day

They say the most important place in your house is the kitchen. In mine, it’s the bathroom. This is where the kids yell for help when they’re out of toilet paper, or yell for me to come see what one of their sisters did NOW, or yell for me to come see their poo in the shape of a pretzel. If I’m looking for something important it’s probably in the bathroom. I even do my best thinking in there.
By now you know that I live in a house full of women and that means alot of PMS and alot of HAIR. With all the brushing, straightening, shaving and pulling I am amazed they have any left. I think most of it goes down the bathtub drain, or almost down the drain.
Last night the drain was clogged again. Happens all the time. I unscrewed the screw that holds the trap in place, patting myself on the back for doing such a manly chore. I took it out and said a few choice words as I tried to slide the slimey clot of hair and soap scum off the screw where it firmly attaches itself. Foolish thing–having a screw there. Hair just winds around it until it forms a nastyass hair ball that eventually hangs down to clog the pipe. I finally whittled the hairball off with my screwdriver. Gak.
But the water still wasn’t going anywhere. I poured a bottle of Liquid Plumber in and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The Liquid Plumber went down just a little bit and I ran some hot water after it just like the instructions said to do.
Nothing was moving.
I imagined having to ask the maintenance guy to fix it and he’d be all “What didja put down there anyway?” And he’d probably find a popsicle stick or a Bratz shoe or a small child that I didn’t know I had, like that time I took the VCR to the repair shop and it worked just fine after they took the TOOTHBRUSH out of it.
I imagined them having to tear out the bathtub to get to the giant hairball which had settled somewhere impossible to reach and not showering for days because I am not going to lower myself to walking next door to ask my mother to use her shower, which would be more proof that I’m a bad mother by letting my children lose so much hair down the drain and not being able to control THAT.
I gave up for the night and left 2 inches of water still sitting there. In the morning I’d find something else to pour down or come up with some other plan of attack.
So 5 a.m. arrived and so did my 15 seconds of brilliance for the day, wasted before the sun was even up. I sat up in bed and thought “Was the lever that closes the drain up or down?” I couldn’t remember and I didn’t know if that meant it was open or closed anyway.
I couldn’t go back to sleep so I got up and went into the bathroom to find out. The lever was UP. All of the water was right there where I had left it. I pushed the lever down and the water drained quickly with a whooshing sound. I’d been trying to unplug a drain that was closed.
I wish someone had been there to share the moment. No, really. Someone who would have said “Don’t worry. This happens to everyone.”

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