Tah Dah
Tah Dah
Margaret E. Holt
June 20, 2006
Every woman who has ever been divorced or had her husband leave her temporarily to go to Greece (or Clemson) knows that this is the time all hell will break loose with mechanical stuff in her house. I remember at the time of my divorce my lawnmower decided it wanted to take an early retirement, and so there I was at dusk assembling a new lawnmower. Whenever, my husband leaves for Greece, the few lightbulbs that can only be reached by Jack in the Beanstalk burn out.
Today was just one more example of this happening. The downstairs toilet failed to flush. This moment took me back to when we used to find that the toilet would only back up on Roberts Road when you had invited twenty plus people to Thanksgiving dinner. Now, one might say, “Call the plumber.” And we do have a great plumber, btw. But at these moments “The Tritt” comes out of me or the “Snooks”, and I am determined to do the repair. I’m into my rowdy period, after all.
The purpose of this brief little essay is to tell you that I have successfully replaced the parts of the tank that make it work. It’s working, I’m beaming with pride, and tomorrow I’m treating myself to a manicure. A manicure is far less expensive than the cute plumber in case you are wondering.
P.S. Don’t call me if you need your toilet fixed. I’ve just had my nails done.
Margaret E. Holt
June 20, 2006
Every woman who has ever been divorced or had her husband leave her temporarily to go to Greece (or Clemson) knows that this is the time all hell will break loose with mechanical stuff in her house. I remember at the time of my divorce my lawnmower decided it wanted to take an early retirement, and so there I was at dusk assembling a new lawnmower. Whenever, my husband leaves for Greece, the few lightbulbs that can only be reached by Jack in the Beanstalk burn out.
Today was just one more example of this happening. The downstairs toilet failed to flush. This moment took me back to when we used to find that the toilet would only back up on Roberts Road when you had invited twenty plus people to Thanksgiving dinner. Now, one might say, “Call the plumber.” And we do have a great plumber, btw. But at these moments “The Tritt” comes out of me or the “Snooks”, and I am determined to do the repair. I’m into my rowdy period, after all.
The purpose of this brief little essay is to tell you that I have successfully replaced the parts of the tank that make it work. It’s working, I’m beaming with pride, and tomorrow I’m treating myself to a manicure. A manicure is far less expensive than the cute plumber in case you are wondering.
P.S. Don’t call me if you need your toilet fixed. I’ve just had my nails done.
posted by Margaret Holt | 6:57 AM
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