What to do with a dirty towel (or) Another Story

Tessa was sassing.

It's becoming her new thing.

I sent her to her room because sassing is so exhausting for little girls that they simply must go get some rest right away. 

Here is how it went down:

Me: "Go to your room.  When you can act nice, you can come back out."

Tess, heading down the hall: "Mom..."

"Nope.  Go to your room."

"But Mom..."

"To. Your. Room."

"But Mom!!!"

"ROOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!

"But Mama, there's water in the hall!!!!!"

"I'm sorry, baby!!!"  I yelp as I spring from the couch and run for the bathroom.  I don't get far before I am slopping through a fast moving H2O.  Instinctively, I hoist my pants up, even though I'm donning capris.  "Everybody quick!  Grab every towel you can find, clean or dirty!"  I added that last part because I knew if I didn't, I would have 3 children walking past used bath towels to bring me napkins.  Turning the corner at the bathroom door, I slid to a halt as I saw a sheet of water pouring over the four inch tile shower ledge.  The tub was half full of murky blue water that seemed to be bubbling up from the drain.  A quick mental inventory narrowed the source.  "Adam, hurry, go shut off the washer!!!"

I stood futilely piling towels in front of the waterfall coming over the shower stoop, and calling orders as children excitedly ran up and down the hall throwing towels in front of bedroom doors in an attempt to contain the flash flood.  On my knees in the bathroom, I called Guy on the cell, who had been gone only a short while on a date with Ethan.  "The bathroom is flooding!  I need you to come home!" 

He wanted details. 

Jonah began crying. 

The girls began squealing and hopping from towel-island to towel-island. 

A vessel in my forehead began to bulge. 

I told Guy to "just get here".  

Fast forward: 18 sloppy towels and sundry soaked rags, one drain snake, one plunger, two days and 6 doses of drain cleaner later, we called a plumber.  Because, well, we really needed to wash some dishes, laundry and human bodies, and also, we are clearly plumbingly-challenged.

Mr. Denney came, and in short order he cleared the main line (I am leaving him in my will.  He is awesome.  Call me if you need a good plumber who is also somewhat of a student of human nature).  He called me out to the studio where, don't ask why, there is a clean out pipe sticking out of our wall. 

"I, um, found what was blocking your line..."

he said with a puzzled look on his face,

"This is a first for me."  (30 years of plumbing, and we managed to do

what no other residents have done before us).

I had been waiting for him to show me a massive hairball

in the color range of 6C Medium Golden Brown.  But he held up...

...wait for it...

A

washcloth.

A whole, entire washcloth.  Which, by the way, was utterly unmarred

by the drain cleaner, in case you were wondering.  

It's really not important how it got there (though I believe there is also a lego guy and a spoon down there) (that's another story) (that story starts with a lego guy slipping down the drain, and ends when the spoon on a string lowered down the drain to retrieve said lego guy slips off of the string) (good times).   

At this very moment I am sitting with my feet propped up on one of 5 laundry baskets that sits in the living room.  There are about 8 loads to go.

Oh, and the blue water... well apparently that was from the silk dye that someone poured down the kitchen sink.  The silk dye from the lovely silks we made earlier that day.

But

THAT

is

another

story.