I’m going to do my very best to document what went on last night at our house. However, I’m afraid there won’t be words enough to give a full picture, so imagination is vital. Please understand that the event is still fairly fresh, so if I start to get sound emotional (as in anxious, frustrated, etc.) please understand. One of these days, this post will be funny.
I was in the computer room, burning CD’s for the upcoming Ultimate Amazing Race. One of the children, used the bathroom, and flushed the toilet. The sound of water being flushed somehow attracts two two year olds—every single time.
I stepped out of the office for just a moment to see that the two two year olds had been captured by the thrill of rolling balls in the bathtub. Fine, harmless entertainment. I continued with my work on the computer.
The toilet flushed.
I heard the water filling the toilet.
The toilet flushed again.
More water noises.
Gimme shouted my name. I jumped out of the chair and flew around the corner to see her stepping up and down on the sopping wet carpet, observing the water still flooding out of the toilet, while explaining how remarkable it was that water had already reached the carpet in such a short amount of time.
“Towels! Get me towels!” I shouted as I waded to the plunger next to the waterfall toilet. I worked that plunger like a boss. To no avail. “Phone! Someone find my phone!” I pleaded, as the water seeped into my shoes.
Mulligan peeled his eyes off of the game he was watching on TV long enough to bring me one towel at a time…between plays…as not to miss anything more exciting than a rerun of last weeks football game.
Birdie was begging me to put her swimsuit on. Why not? Bogey was attempting the back float on the floor after he slipped and fell. Double Bogey was hitting the water as it poured out of the toilet and onto the floor. Their clothes were soaked, so it was understandable that Birdie suggested swimwear.
After I got the main water line to the toilet shut off, I ran downstairs with more towels. Mulligan’s bedroom is situated right underneath the bathroom, and I could hear the dripping before I even got to the bottom of the stairs. It was raining in Mulligan’s room.
As I was trying to rip the can lights out of the ceiling, I kept trying to call Ace. He was still working, and I needed some direction. When he finally answered, he detoured to get a shop vac. We needed some way to get the water out of the carpet.
I failed at the lights. So, I did what any calm person would do. I sprinted across the street to the neighbor’s house, and tried to gently spew the major details of the situation at them. Within minutes, the neighbor was at our house with a toolbox and drain snake.
Ace got home, and he and the neighbor removed the toilet and worked it over on the front lawn. The small rubber ball lodged inside the toilet was a valiant competitor, but it was no match for the drain snake and dryer lint cleaner.
The neighbor’s wife brought us all 44 ouncers from Maverick, as a reward for our triumph.
And the silver lining?
I’m checking “Mop bathroom floor” off of my list.