I Have A Theory

I have a theory.

When my bathroom looks like this at 1:00 AM on a Tuesday morning, something has gone terribly amiss.

It all started on Sunday. I told Alex the upstairs toilet wasn't flushing completely. He looked up from his computer and said "really!" so I realized this was a job that I would have to do myself. I grabbed the plunger and went upstairs.

I plunged with all my might and flushed about 10 times while I continued to try and get the toilet cleared. Finally, it seemed to be all right. (Now I might mention that although our home has 4 bathrooms, only one is located upstairs where our bedroom is. Because I am a woman "of a certain age", it is likely I will get up in the night at least once to use the facilities.)

I spent the evening engrossed in CNN and forgot all about the earlier problem with the toilet. Osama bin Laden being killed was strongly on my mind. I didn't feel jubilant, I just felt sad, (or maybe sadder than usual), as I am always sad when my husband is leaving on a mission.

This morning I noticed the toilet bowl was overly full of water. I ignored it and came downstairs to perform my ablutions, figuring I would deal with it later. While having my morning coffee and watching CNN for updates, I learned that Osama had not only been killed, but he had also been buried at sea in less than 24 hours after his death. This is apparently in conformance with Islamic religious law. It made sense because while the US was not honoring the man, the country was showing admirable respect for the Muslim faith under the circumstances.

I went upstairs about 8 PM and remembered that the toilet had been hinky so I grabbed the plunger and tried again. This time, I miscalculated and water poured on to the floor at an alarming rate. I tried to pull the thingy up to stop the flow but to no avail. It finally subsided but not until the entire bathroom floor was flooded. There is a faucet under the toilet and I turned it off.

The clean up took about 3 hours and 25 towels. I brought up the mop and the Lysol to finish the job. I turned on "Nurse Jackie" and settled in my favorite chair to watch a couple of episodes although I was very tired. Hauling the wet towels downstairs was a lot like hard labor since they weighed a ton, and I really am not a fan of carrying heavy things.

Perhaps and hour later, I heard water. At first I thought it was the cat using the litter box and didn't pay too much attention to it. Then I realized if that was the cat using the litter box, I'd better get him to the vet right away. I cautiously approached the bathroom only to see a tsunami coming toward me.

The bathroom floor was covered in about a half an inch of water. Oh shit oh dear! I grabbed the remaining 20 or so towels, two terrycloth robes, and the contents of the laundry hamper and tried to soak up the water, but it was flowing out as fast as I could sop it up. I finally threw caution to the wind and yanked every tube in the tank out. What do you know! It stopped! Just like that!

I got a pail and started bailing water out of the bowl and the tank. I hauled the water out to the sink in the family room, making about 100 trips. I was still not confident it would not rise up again but so far it hasn't.

The law of political thermodynamics says that for every action, there is an opposite and inequal reaction (or something like that). I think tossing Osama in the drink is what caused the toilet to flood my house.

I can only hope nobody else is buried at sea in the near future.