After yesterday’s epic whine about the vicissitudes of home ownership I looked around for some kind of salve for my male ego. And fate or something provided me with the opportunity to redeem myself. A clogged bathtub drain. For the last few weeks, the drain in our tub has been getting slower and slower. Lately I’ve left the plunger near the tub and after every shower I played a game of trying to get it to break loose. All I achieved was to dredge up a goodly amount of black flakes that were some kind of fossilized soap scum. And all that achieved was to waste ten or fifteen minutes while I cleaned up the tub of this disgusting residue.
But today I had had enough. I gathered my equipment:
- Screwdrivers … check
- Needle nose pliers … check
- Accordion Toilet Plunger with Large Bellows for Extra Powerful Plunge, Black … check
- Snake auger … check
- Electric drill … check
- Safety glasses … check
- Disposable rubber gloves … check
All that was left was to let Camera Girl see that I was preparing for battle and even though I would be expending tens of thousands of dollars to have someone competent repair my home, at least I was capable of saving the cost of a plumber to get my bathtub back in good operating condition.
I solemnly explained to her how I would be removing the plunger from the trip-lever stopper to properly auger the drain line. I don’t think it would be possible for me to overstate the intensity of contempt her look communicated to me. Well, that’s the problem with women. They don’t understand or appreciate technical genius.
So, I removed the drain filter and tried pulling out hair with the pliers. Nada. Then just for old time’s sake I put six inches of water in the tub and tried the “Accordion Toilet Plunger with Large Bellows for Extra Powerful Plunge, Black.” I pushed down on the stupid thing once and the tub drained in seconds. And of course, Camera Girl walked in just as it emptied and gave me the same look. She picked up the plunger and asked, “How much did you pay for this?” I said, “ten bucks.” “And this?” (pointing at the auger). “Sixty dollars.” She shook her head and walked away. Women don’t understand about contingency planning. Very short-sighted.
Well, as pathetic as my victory was, it has transformed my attitude. We’re definitely on the upswing. And after she took a shower, she readily admitted that a working bathtub drain is not a commodity to look down your nose at. And there’s no telling what I might do next.
Who knows, maybe I’ll tell my builder to stop all work, figure what I owe him so far and take over the job myself. I mean how long could it take me to shovel ten thousand pounds of gravel? And how hard can it be to jack up a building off its foundation? And who needs a truck to pour concrete anyway? What was it Archimedes said? “Give me a place to stand and a lever long enough and I’ll move the Earth.” Well, some of my ancestors came from Sicily. Maybe I’m related to Archimedes (at least by marriage!). Well, baby steps. I think I’ll shock Camera Girl and brew my own pot of coffee. How hard could it be?




