I watched quietly tonight from my laundry-folding position on the couch while my husband ran from the basement to the bathroom brandishing a plunger as if it were a sword. And then two wire clothes hangers.
By God, he's going to make the tub drain.
Or die trying.
Ah, marriage.
**Ten Minutes Later**
I was just interrupted from my blogging by a cry for help from the basement.
He got the tub to drain alright.
All over the basement floor.
Apparently some kind of balancing act was going on and a bucket full of "not very dirty" water (approximately 3 gallons) went all over the basement floor.
Join me, won't you, in a collective, "Eeeeewwww!"
We got everything cleaned up, and now I'm going to go scrub the bathtub out so that I can take a shower and go to bed.
At least the laundry is folded...and I'll have a clean tub!
p.s. A husband's idea of "not very dirty" water is very different than a wife's.
3 comments:
Oh no, did the Bumper carpet get all wet then, too?
"A husband's idea of "not very dirty" water is very different than a wife's." hahahaahha. Oh, what a pain. I'm so sorry!
In California, where they re-cycle everything (so as not to end up in the 'pillory') they call that substance 'gray water'; it's everything that comes from the sink, shower and anything above the waist. It all goes to flush the potty to the Statehouse at Sacramento.
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