By LAURA GRIMES
“Why are you heating water?” my husband asked me with a note of alarm in his voice.
He associates hot water with tea. And he associates tea with sore throats.
“Because I’m … uh … ”
How do I tell my husband that I’m heating water because our bathtub drain is plugged? As I shower, the water slowly rises to my ankles until I cry for help, quickly rinse and turn off the faucet. Then the water slowly recedes, leaving a gray filthy mess. This isn’t pleasant. It grosses me out.
Somehow it doesn’t gross out one of the large smelly boys, who not only doesn’t notice the gray filthy mess, he TAKES A BATH IN IT. My only comfort in this is that one of the large smelly boys is actually taking a bath, though I still worry for his overall hygiene.
My mom visited and somehow the rising pool of water did not escape her notice.
Figuring a large clump of goo got lodged in the drain, I unscrewed the stopper to clean it out. But there’s a trap a few inches down that blocks getting to the goo.
I tried the vinegar and soda trick. Nada.