Monday, March 3, 2008

30 minutes

Mr. D stayed sick all weekend and now today I'm home with 3 sick boys. We all feel like hell. My sinuses are so plugged that I can barely hear the phone ring. Fortunately, my sick boys all go into their separate corners and suffer silently. God love 'em for that.

Flashback to this weekend, when I ran to and fro, waiting on the invalid, caring for my children, hearth and home. Mr. T had black belt candidate training Friday night and Saturday afternoon and I brought him into town Saturday and cheered him on while he ran his 3 miles. Then I headed to the nearest drug store to stock up on cold and flu medicine. I returned home and checked in on Mr. B, Mr. G and Mr. D. Everyone got settled with fresh snacks, drinks, toys, and movies. I checked the clock. Thirty minutes until I had to go get Mr. T from karate. Enough time to clean a bathroom and then read a chapter out of my latest P.G. Wodehouse with a cup of coffee.

I grabbed a rag, my bucket of Mrs. Meyers cleaning supplies and a fresh roll of toilet paper and headed into the front bathroom that my kids always use. It's a half bath, just a sink and toilet, normally takes 15 minutes to clean. I emptied Mr. G's potty chair contents into the toilet and flushed. The bowl filled with thick brown sewage and wastewater. It stopped just at the overflow point. I re-armed myself with a plunger and began to plunge.

And plunge.

And plunge.

And plunge.

I turned on the fan and kept plunging. I fought back my gag reflex.

My arm began to ache.

I started to curse.

The icky poopy disgusting slop began to slosh in tiny toxic droplets onto my jeans.

I opened the front door for more fresh air.

I cursed the 3 year old who dumped in a load of toilet paper and I cursed the 5 year old who poops and doesn't flush.

Then I heard the cat squalling from the front door. I looked around the corner and saw she had killed and dragged a huge rabbit to my front porch and there they sat, carcass and cat, waiting for my enthusiastic praise.

Ten minutes remaining before I go to get Mr. T and I'm still plunging and now I have a rabbit carcass to dispose of before the kids see it and get upset at the cat. (2 years ago Mr. D found a baby bunny while mowing the lawn and brought it inside...the kids named it "Flash" and ever since, every rabbit in the field is certainly "Flash" or "Flash's baby." Mr. D has regretted that choice to bring the baby bunny in the house for one night ever since.)

Finally I heard the small groan in the depths of our pipes, the sound of the Wad 'O Toilet Paper shoving through and the thick brown sludge vanished down the drain. I flushed again. And again. And then I scrubbed, scoured and disinfected every surface inch of the room.

The bathroom glistened and shone. The sweet smell of Mrs. Meyers Lemon Verbena filled the air. I put away my cleaning supplies and headed for the front porch. After acknowledging the cat's prowess as a hunter, I carried the beheaded rabbit through the snowdrifts and tossed it far into the east field. Returning home with a second to spare, I stripped off my rubber gloves and scrubbed my hands of feces, urine and death and barely made it back to the karate school in time to get Mr. T.


  1. EWWWWW. Nothing like a little sewage backup to get in the way of coffee and a book.
    Ick! But it made for a funny post ;)

  2. Crap. Oh wait, you had enough of that didn't you?


  3. You wow...

    If my dog brought me a dead animal, I would probably squeal and call Mr. QM to come home from work and dispose of it.

    Plunging-yeah-I have three boys as well-they either DON'T WIPE AT ALL or use half the roll.

  4. Holy cow! That was quite a day. I hope y'all feel better soon!

  5. You are so much better than I am. When a toilet backs up -- which is at least twice a week in Jenworld, home of Graceful's rock hard turds -- I holler for Pete. Luckily, he hasn't had to snake the plumbing in a while.

    As for the dead animal, again, I call for the man of the house.

  6. Eeeeew!
    Hey, just be thankful you HAD a plunger!

  7. I Hereby award Miss Green Girl
    with the title of
    Most Special Mummy
    for services to child rearing and cleanliness.
    with ribbon and bar!

  8. I second Domestically Challenged's vote for bars and ribbons to you, GG. Icky sewage, decapitated bunny and flu all around. Only you could triumph that one, gagging or not.
    Oh, the joys of living in the country. Hope you all feel better SOON, especially you!

  9. Gosh, thanks for sharing! Glad I read that one after dinner...

  10. Oh Honey. I want to buy you a pedicure and about twenty good books. Hang in.


Spill it, reader.