Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, all the sinks and tubs drained properly — EXCEPT in the kitchen. Mmmhhhmmm…on Christmas Eve my kitchen sink seized up and dug in it’s heels like a two-year-old who hasn’t figured out, yet, he can’t win. It refused to drain. Nothing worked to settle the tantrum. We washed it out with Drano, TWICE….nothing. Our son-in-law braved the cold night and went to borrow a plumber’s snake from our pastor. Nothing….nothing….nothing….no threat of force or violence could budge it. Nothing happened…well, except dirty water whooshed back and forth between the two sinks and the dishwasher, mocking me. Yuck! Have you ever tried to find a plumber over a holiday? Let’s just say, “Not so much.”
So, we had a fun Christmas Eve and a fantastic Christmas! The kids were all home. The grandbabies were here. I cooked delicious food in as few dishes as possible and we used paper and plastic plates and cups. You just never realize how much you take simple things for granted — like a kitchen sink. Every dirty dish had to be carried downstairs to the laundry room, washed in the wonderfully deep laundry room sink and then dried and carried back up the stairs to the kitchen to be put away. Imagine the intensity of my prayers for a plumber. 🙂
Bright and early, Monday morning, I got a hold of our local plumber and was added to the list of those who had holiday plumbing snafus to be solved. Unfortunately, only one plumber was working through the holiday season, so “It might not be possible to get there, today.” Okay, that’s reasonable. It’s the holidays and they’re shorthanded. One more day of dishes in the laundry room isn’t going to kill me. It’s like running on a Stairmaster carrying weights. It’ll be good for me hauling everything up and down those stairs.
At 4:15 p.m. on Tuesday, I called our plumber again, “To be sure we were on the list.” I was assured that we were and he would be in touch soon. Wednesday, I didn’t want to sound like I was nagging them, so I forced myself not to call. It’s just one more day of laundry room dishwashing, right? Bright and early, Thursday morning, the much anticipated call came. The plumber was going to be here later in the morning. Woohoo!
Keep in mind that we live in a small town and we know our plumber. Actually, in a small town you get to know a lot of professional people by their first name. Even when we moved for a short time to yet another small town, (microscopic actually), we used the same local professionals from here, if we needed help. We trust them. We know their names. So, imagine my delight, when about 10:45 a.m., I got the call and Len told me he was a couple blocks away and would be right over. After 25 minutes, I started to wonder…is it appropriate to call one’s plumber to make sure they are okay or to inquire about the condition of their onboard GPS? Just wondering. At 11:25, poor Len called me again, from the driveway of our old house (in the microscopic small town we had lived in until last September). Luckily, we both have fantastic senses of humor. We laughed and then Len, headed back here to town, where he had originally been before his lovely scenic drive into the country.
Unfortunately, Len’s trusty plumber’s snake was no longer than the one we had borrowed before. The only option left…surgery! What a blessing to have those removable tiles in the ceiling of our finished basement. It would be a small incision. Len and my husband laid out a gigantic plastic painter’s tarp and brought in a 30 gallon garbage can. Then they removed a couple of ceiling tiles to expose the drain pipe from the kitchen sink. Is it okay to say that I considered calling in a “code red” when I saw the reciprocating saw come out? Not that I didn’t think they knew exactly what they were doing, but ummm…will my carpet make it? Exactly what is the survival rate of carpet exposed to plugged and then sawed drain pipes? — lol
I needn’t have worried. With small precise cuts, that could only be made by a masterful surgeon plumber, Len allowed small amounts of water to drain at a time into a 5 gallon bucket that David held over his head (my muscle man!) They never even needed the big garbage can. Each new cut, released a new torrent and soon the pipe was drained. The snake was re-employed and this time could reach its goal. The pipe cleared, Len installed a new splice connector thingy (Aren’t you blown away by my vast plumbing vocabulary?) over the cut pipe and hallelujah! — nothing leaks. And the kitchen sink drains!
The moral of this story, ladies, is not to take the little things for granted. Love your kitchen sink. You’d be lost without it! (Appreciate good plumbers and husbands, too. They’re irreplaceable, as are son-in-laws willing to go out in the freezing night for the sake of your dishes and pastors willing to loan their tools.) Life is good! See the little things and know you’re blessed. Have a marvelous New Year! I hope it’s filled with love and laughter and perfect kitchen sinks!