Pink-ish
Flush. Wait. Plunger.
We have one bathroom in our new house. It's on the second floor.
Flush. Wait. Plunger.
The previous owners had the bathroom completely tiled, from the floor to about eye-level. The tiles are pink. Well, pink-ish.
Plunger plunger plunger.
Interspersed within this sea of pink tiles, every tenth tile or so, is a tile with a floral bouquet printed on it. The flowers are pink. The leaves and stems taper off and curl delicately.
Flush. Wait. Plunger.
The sink is the same color as the tile. The tub is the same color as the sink which is the same color as the tile.
Plunger plunger plunger.
The toilet is the same color as the sink, the tub, and the tile. It's pink. Well, pink-ish.
Plunger plunger plunger.
The toilet stops up a few times every week. It's the toilet paper.
Plunger plunger plunger!
With two preschoolers and a second grader, that toilet sees a lot of paper. Much of it superfluous.
Plunger Plunger Plunger!
With the grandparents here and my wife and I just back from Central America, that toilet saw a perfect storm of paper.
Plunger Plunger PLUNGER!
Whole trees went down that toilet.
PLUNGER PLUNGER PLUNGER!
Forests.
PLUNGER PLU--- Whoosh, gurgle gurgle. Aaah.
It took a long time to clear the pipes. Just not long enough. Because remember back at the beginning of the post, back when I said this house has just one bathroom? Well, that was a lie. There is a second bathroom. It's way, way down in our new basement. It's really more of a potential bathroom than an actual bathroom. Right now, it has no tile. No tile, no fixtures, no toilet, no nothing. It's just a small room with pipes coming out of the walls and a big open sewer pipe in the floor. And do you know what happens if you clog up your upstairs pipes with a big ol' wad of toilet paper, then plunger and plunger and plunger it all the way through the pipes, plunger it down two stories, plunger it through the basement, and plunger it just past that big open pipe in the floor of the basement bathroom? Well, then, you've made yourself a fountain.
A shit fountain.
Hurrah.
I'm really sorry, The Dad, but I have to point out that the words "You've made yourself a fountain....A shit fountain." should probably be the title of your autobiography.
Posted by: Joy | May 01, 2008 at 02:39 PM
oh, The Dad - i'm so sorry. i'm sorry that i laughed out loud like a little kid at your misery. i'm sorry that i it put the sunshine back in my day. i will try really, really hard to be more empathetic... next time.
(and i agree with joy - it really is a great title for your book...)
Posted by: rachel | May 01, 2008 at 02:46 PM
This is your punishment for going away.
Posted by: Anne Prince | May 01, 2008 at 02:46 PM
A shit fountain!
I feel for you but did have hearty, outloud, laugh at that description!
Posted by: Stephanie | May 01, 2008 at 02:49 PM
You do have quite the track record for things like this. However, few could make the prelude to a shit fountain seem somehow poetic.
Posted by: Tammy | May 01, 2008 at 02:50 PM
holy crap!!!!!!
Posted by: heidi | May 01, 2008 at 03:44 PM
Wasn't there a shit fountain in your not so distant past? You didn't use the same term, I think. But there was a post with a description of a bucket and well... shit. And you're loading the bucket with said shit that is spraying (fountain like) and The Mom is dumping it. After a bit you realized her dumping the bucket is fueling your shit spray that's filling the bucket.
Did I imagine this post? Am I attributing it to the wrong blogger? Am i just losing my mind?
Posted by: Laura | May 01, 2008 at 03:51 PM
Well - Looky, Daddy at that! Funniest thing I've read in weeks - workmates think I'm losing it (they're not wrong, but the laughter upon which they base their conclusion is unrelated.
Posted by: Katherine | May 01, 2008 at 03:53 PM
HA! Oh sweet Lord in heaven, I feel SO much better having read that. You! You are magic, my friend! And not that Bullwinkle,-watch-me-pull-a-rabbit-outta-my-hat magic, but real David-frikkin'-Copperfield magic!
Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' | May 01, 2008 at 03:59 PM
Laura: Different basement, different year, same blog.
Posted by: Brian | May 01, 2008 at 04:04 PM
Oh my gosh, I'll apologize first, but I am laughing out loud at that.
Posted by: SusanR | May 01, 2008 at 04:05 PM
My husband had to come into the den to see what I was laughing so much at.... Now he's doing the same.
We both feel for you, though... But you tell a good story!
Posted by: Trudie | May 01, 2008 at 04:23 PM
OMG...that's hysterical and disgusting all at the same time! Those are always the best.
Posted by: barnmouse | May 01, 2008 at 04:25 PM
I don't know about everyone else, but I'm far more horrified about the description of the upstairs bathroom than what happened down in the basement. That's a lot of pink up there.
Posted by: becky from sc | May 01, 2008 at 05:20 PM
Well, I'm glad I'm not crazy in having "shit fountain" flashbacks. I also agree with Joy that you should make that the title of your autobiography.
Good luck sorting out your shit fountain/pink vomit situation. I think you may have another situation to sort out if the grandparents find out they were equated to a trip to Central America regarding toilet paper usage, so tread carefully.
Posted by: LiteralDan | May 01, 2008 at 05:36 PM
I can sympathize since I plunged myself into a shit shower since the lowest point (or the first opening back from the septic tank) in the house happens to be my shower drain. I've also had a pink, pink-ish bathroom, though not both in the same house. So I don't know if that's better or worse.
Posted by: sahaworth | May 01, 2008 at 06:12 PM
Wow, Brian. First off, your vacation sounds lovely. I may have to take one.
Second ... your shit fountain. OMG. Any man who can write a post like that is all right in my book.
Our bathroom is also pinkish. Horrible, horrible. How do you deal with pinkish? We pretend it's not happening and go about our daily lives.
Posted by: Mia | May 01, 2008 at 06:26 PM
I'm an expert of sorts on period bathrooms and pinkish screams fifties to me but it could even be as early as 30s which makes it older than you are- tell the mom you are ready to upgrade. Tell her you will also be hiring someone to do the work or she will never go on vacation with you again!
Posted by: Heidi #2 but whose counting... | May 01, 2008 at 06:26 PM
Wow, Brian. First off, your vacation sounds lovely. I may have to take one.
Second ... your shit fountain. OMG. Any man who can write a post like that is all right in my book.
Our bathroom is also pinkish. Horrible, horrible. How do you deal with pinkish? We pretend it's not happening and go about our daily lives.
Posted by: Mia | May 01, 2008 at 07:44 PM
And I agree - super funny! If you don't write a book you should consider a screenplay - fabulous comic timing!
Posted by: Heidi #2 but whose counting... | May 01, 2008 at 07:49 PM
OMG. The play by play. The anticipation. I think I just wet my pants. I'm dying. Hopefully you're not considering dancing naked in said fountain...
Posted by: KK | May 01, 2008 at 08:29 PM
After confirmation that I was not imagining that last "shit" post. I thought it was in the old house, but i couldn't find it in your archives. Thanks for the link!
But since this seems to be a recurring thing for you (and for that I am deeply sympathetic) I agree, you should definitely have the words "shit fountain" the title of your first book.
But hey - at least you write really really well. Excellent story telling skills
Again, I'm sorry. So very, very sorry.
Posted by: Laura | May 01, 2008 at 08:56 PM
You have bad basement karma.
Posted by: 3-Martini Jennifer | May 01, 2008 at 09:44 PM
Shouldn't you have a cap on the open sewer pipe? Sewer gas can get into the house (and rats). Put a cap on it right away -- if you don't have a proper cap, plug it with rags until you can get one.
Posted by: | May 01, 2008 at 10:55 PM
ohhh...this is definitely giving me flashbacks to a shit fountain of my own. I don't think I had as much of a sense of humor about it, though. UGH. So sorry!
Posted by: R | May 01, 2008 at 11:22 PM