A week ago, I got a call from Hannah. Apparently, her duties
as nanny now include hand pumping sewer water, as it was seeping up through our
basement drain. Rage level: 5.
I called Roto Rooter and they send over a nice Eastern
European man who put a camera into our pipes, to the tune of $500. Rage level:
4.
The nice Eastern European man immediately called his boss
and waited anxiously and smoked anxiously on our front lawn. Rage level: 3.
His plump boss was the king of man who is highly trained at
telling people bad news. There was a lot
of “Sir” and “Can I show you something, sir?” Apparently, our big, beautiful
trees in our front lawn have been plotting my destruction over the last 150
years. Their impenetrable roots had
burrowed into our pipes, rendering them ineffective at getting our poop from
our toilet to the sewer. They would have
to get a giant backhoe and dig a big hole in our lawn. Right in the middle of our landscaping. Rage
level: 9.
I asked, “What’s this going to cost me?”
“$5,000.” Rage level: 11.
I spent the night tossing and turning in bed, dreaming of
explaining to Elijah and Luca why it was more important for us to poop than for
them to go to college.
I was awake when I heard the backhoe rumble to life in our
front yard. Rage level: 12.
Then I heard Eli scream from the front of our house, “LUCA!
LUCA! There’s a machine in our
yard! It’s digging! It’s digging!”
Luca raced past our bedroom door and screamed so loud it
made Grover bark.
The boys pounded on our windows, shrieking with
delight. They were insane with glee.
Rage level: 0.
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