Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Mystery of the Clogged Bathroom Sink

Our bathroom/laundry room sink suddenly and mysteriously clogged up this past week.

After reading a Clogged Sink Mystery story courtesy of the fabulous Amy, Hatfield and I were not eager to solve our own clogged sink mystery. So we did what any other set of intelligent women in denial would do: we placed a laundry basket over the sink so no one else could use it.

Finally, after 4 days of avoidant tactics, I asked the Mister to please snake the drain.

And then I made myself a margarita to help me cope with the findings. The time of day is irrelevant to the story.

So, armed with his trusty iPod and accompanying iPod speaker-thingy (because GOD FORBID the man has to accomplish a task over 60 seconds without his podcasts. The man is addicted. He will seriously take 15 minutes to charge his damn iPod before he can make the 3 minute car ride to the video store to return a movie. It drives me cah-ray-zee), the Mister entered the bathroom.

He set up his iPod, and then came back out of the bathroom to find because he realized that he forgot his drain snake. Imagine that.

10 minutes later, armed with the industrial-quality snake (we learned early in our post-placement days), he locked himself into the bathroom.

Loud swearing, clanking and pounding commenced for the next 45 minutes. Followed by: "Hay-zeus Chris-tay Holy F*cking Hell!" (The Mister never drops the f-bomb in my presence, so this always makes me giggle.)

"I don't want to know!" I hollered while glugging a margarita. Which totally impressed myself. Who knew I could be so good at that? Seriously, I could probably win a Yelling-While-Glugging-A-Margarita contest.

"Awwww, MAN!" he continued to yell. "Aw, crap, I'm gonna retch! This sonovabitch is bigger than Lily (our 15 pound cat.)"

I pulled the blanket over my head, plugged my ears and began humming. But then I realized, crap! I can't do that and drink a margarita, so the margarita won out.

About 10 long minutes later the Mister emerged from the bathroom, with a large, heavy, wet garbage bag.

"What the hell was it?!?" I asked.

"Well, at first I wasn't sure," he began.

Oh good God, that can't be good if my Mister cannot figure it out. He grew up in the country with a bunch of farm animals, for Pete's sake, and knows about all kinds of stuff that just the mere thought makes my squeamish city-girl self wanna pass out. If he can't figure out just what the heck it was, well. . .then we're screwed.

"But then I figured it out. . . .Lint!" He proclaimed with great pride.

Well, no sh*t he didn't figure it out right away. I'm not sure if the man knows what machine is the dryer, let alone locate its lint trap. (Love you, babe.)

"Lint?!? Seriously?!?!" I asked.

"Yeah, like 15 pounds of lint, all clogged up, right beneath the sink stopper." He paused, likely trying to gauge my sense of self-control. "Clearly, someone stuffed the drain with lint from the bathroom garbage."

Ahhhh, the plot thickens. What suspect do you place your money on, dear Watson?

Daaaa, da dun dun dddduuuunnnn. . .
The Usual Suspect

Sure enough, just the mere mention of "So, you all will NEVER GUESS what Dad found in the bathroom sink" from my lips at dinner time sent the child soaring into a huge panic attack.

And, he was the only one who was able to correctly guess. Case closed!


But seriously, call me Pollyanna or call me a lush two margaritas into the evening, but I gotta say, my boy's creativity is Pretty Darn Impressive.
I mean, Lint in the Sink.

And, his patient sense of gumption is Pretty Darn Impressive as well. Our sink drain stopper/thingy is really quite low to the sink, and he's not allowed to spend copious amounts of time unattended in the bathroom, so he clearly had the ingenuity to determine an efficient way of stuffing lint into the small drain opening and the patience to do this continuously over the course of several days until he effectively plugged the sink.

That would make an impressive resume, were he searching for a job as a Professional Sink Clogger.

But, all's well that end's well. Thank God it was just lint and not a dead rodent; that's definitely one thing to be thankful for. And Miles will do a few chores to pay Daddy for the time and effort he exerted in removing said lint from the trap.

But what do y'all think: Should Miles be given a few chores to pay Mommy back for the tequila and margarita mix she had to imbibe to emotionally cope with the clogged drain?

I'm guessing I already know the Divine Ms. Geralyn's answer ;), but anyone else wanna chime in?


Kristi said...

Ok...seriously? I am only laughing this hard because it is you and not me. Thank goodness my kid has not thought of that...yet.

I think the little guy should have to not only reimburse you for the tequila and margarita mix but also for a trip to Orlando for therapy.

Essie the Accidental Mommy said...

Oh my gosh, that is SO FUNNY!

I love that the guilty party "guessed" what it was that Daddy pulled out of there. A horse? no, hmmmm, a truck? no, hmmmm, dryer lint in balls stacked up from the past 17 days? REALLY?


Megan said...

Hilaaaaarious- said in my best Jerry Seinfeld voice :-)

Amy said...

I don't know. Chugging a margarita was probably a better choice than standing on a stool and screaming. J just loved that so much though.

Seriously, how do these kids think of these things? And why are RADs full of similar behaviors? Interesting.

Here's to margaritas and lint, and screaming and squirrels, and gagging by the hubby's all around!

ManyBlessings said...

I'm laughing too hard to think...hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!

bbbunch said...

Well...I'm willing to shove lint down my bathroom sink if it means I can chug Margaritas.

LMAO...Bella just came in and told me that "somebody!" clogged the toilet. Thank God for Daddy!

geralyn said...

I can't believe I almost missed reading this since we've all had the stomach flu for almost a week now. BTW, great colon cleansing trick happening here, all for the price of a sip of ginger ale.

So I have lots to say about your nasty lint clog, but for now all I'm gonna say is "DON'T FORGET YOUR BIG PURPLE JUG!"

Counting down the days....9!


Anonymous said...

Did I earn my man card back for killing the lint beast in the pipes?

I have to admit, he was brilliant for the idea of lint as a sneaky thing. Too bad he can't fib without those tell signs. Professional gambler, he is not meant to be....