And the toilet saga continues
So Thursday evening found me snuggling into bed after a long day at the children's museum and an evening of karate. I laid myself to sleep with the expectation of being awoken in the wee hours of the morning to the tell-tale sounds of my husband unclogging our toilet. I fully planned to snuggle under our new comforter, feign sleep, and enjoy the restoration of a functioning toilet in the morning. Sure, if the clanking got too loud and the muttering turned to actual shouting, I would get up. But why bother my sweet while he is doing his manly, fixity kind of thing?

I awoke with a start when I noticed the sun. No such noises awoke me. And I know my husband better than to honestly entertain the notion that he would have fixed the toilet quietly enough to have not awoken me. A quick survey established that the toilet remained clogged and my husband hadn't made it home yet.

The toilet had clogged Tuesday evening. It was now Thursday. We were approaching emergency status.

I would like to say my knight in shining armor swooped in to magically unclog the toilet in the nick of time, but there was no such luck to be had for our family. He did finally make it home. And tried everything I had tried. But it didn't work any better for him.

Which is why, at 1PM on the 13th of December, I looked with dismay at the sight of our one and only bathroom. The toilet was unclogged, I guess. But it was also not where it belonged. Instead, it was in pieces in the bathtub. And hubby was frustrated with not having the parts to put it back together properly. So I took dictation to compose a short list, took my eldest and drove into town.

The second best part of going into town was the presence of a toilet in every place we stopped...the library, the grocery store, Menards. The best part I'll get to in a minute. First I have to share the conversation I had with the stock boy at Menards.
Excuse me, sir. I am a complete idiot. Can you help?
And I handed him the list. He asked me a question and I looked at him blankly. What part of "I'm a complete idiot" did he not understand?

OK, so maybe those weren't my exact words, but the meaning was the same. I was desperate for a toilet in my own home and beyond any mincing of words in an attempt to disguise my ignorance in the matter.

So he selected some things off the shelf, placed them in my cart and smiled politely as I thanked him and left. And do you know what my daughter said? This is the best part. (I wouldn't want you to miss it.)
Mom, this is the best day I've had in a long time.

Even better than yesterday at the Children's Museum?

Yeah. Even better.

What makes you say that?

It was just nice. Just the two of us. I like just spending time with you.
And I was suddenly thankful for that beast of a toilet and two and a half days without it.