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My House is Not a Swimming Pool

Well, its not. True story….

It almost was this weekend though. We started noticing the upstairs sink wasn’t draining. Unfortunately, we didn’t notice that the water was coming out of the pipes under the sink until we had a wet mess that soaked the first floor sheetrock and left a pool of water on the carpet.

I don’t have much money now and since plumbers don’t take alternative methods of payment like books, a rather expansive collection of movies, or miscellaneous electric adapters I had to do it myself. The first step was to unhook the trap from the bottom of the sink. Done! Easy peasy japaneesy. I’m kind of a handy man so I know my way around a wrench.

Next I had to borrow a “snake” from a family member. I pushed it down the pipe but no dice. It just kinked. I literally stared at it for an hour trying to think of other objects to shove down the pipe before a family member suggested busting the sheetrock and cutting into the pipe in the wall to see if I could unclog it there.

To tell you the truth I was terrified of busting up the sheetrock. If I didn’t find the clog I’d just have a busted wall, cut up pipes, and a non-working sink. Luckily, the clog was right below where I cut and the water instantly drained. From the cross-section of pipe I cut, I could see there there was years of soap scum that had built up in the pipe. The house was built in 1984 so its safe to assume its at least that old of build-up. I paraded around the house showing my wife and kids who looked at it disgustingly.

I felt so accomplished. Then came what I thought would be the easy part. Putting everything back together. I was wrong…

First off, the parts were all custom because the sink to wall pipe set up was a little abnormal. It took 4 trips to the hardware store before I got what I needed. Actually, I didn’t get what I needed but I made it work. Somehow I fit these pipes together and now I’m crossing my fingers that they don’t bust loose and send water everywhere. I still gloated though. I didn’t let my family know how poor of a job I did at re-piping. I strutted downstairs and said, “Yep. She’s all done. Nothing to it.”

They then proceeded to lift me up and cheer. Okay, that part didn’t happen. I did get a thank you beer though. What more can you ask for?


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2 thoughts on “My House is Not a Swimming Pool

  1. Aw, bless you! That shit is hard to do. I know this because I leave such things entirely in the hands of my boyfriend despite the fact that he is about as naturally talented at such tasks as myself. But he has testes so therefore I reason that this must make him naturally apt at manly tasks, in the way he presumes I have some natural affinity for cooking and grocery shopping 🙂

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