Bubble, Bubble, Boil And Trouble

Last night, The Pony clogged the toilet. That came as no surprise, nor did the fact that he did it right after Plumber H left for the #1 son's choir concert. I am no toilet plunger. That's Plumber H's realm.

Upon his return, Plumber H heard the breaking news, and promptly sat down in his La-Z-Boy. A behavior somehow fitting. An hour later, I asked if he had fixed the boys' toilet. Plumber H said he was just getting ready to do that.

He went about it in the usual manner. Did he use a plunger? A snake? An unbent coathanger, perhaps? No. Plumber H has his own special unclogging method. He boiled a pot of water. Or four or five, but who's counting. Poor Plumber H. He must be confusing toilet unplugging with delivering a baby. Sometimes, clean towels are involved, as well.

You would think that a man who is in charge of a maintenance department in a factory would know his way around a toilet. He can rip one out, and put one in, precious rubber ring and all, but he seems bumfuddled when it comes to unclogging one. When was the last time you called a plumber and he said, "Just a minute, let me go grab my cauldron of boiling water out of the van?" I'm guessing that answer would be: never.

Just what Plumber H thinks he is forcing through the pipes and out to the septic tank is kind of a mystery to me. Hot water? Really? Does he think he's melting chocolate? Personally, I think he's successful if it ever unclogs because of the large volumes of water with which he fills the toilet. It's all about the force of the water shoving things through.

But don't tell Plumber H. He might fancy himself making special deliveries.