I came home from work early today because I was just feeling totally frazzled. Walked into the master bedroom to check on Ron as I noticed he wasn't in his recliner. He was trying to unplug the toilet. It's not flushing correctly and we've had issues with it and the amount of toilet paper he has to use (isn't this a lovely topic?).
So, I come home because I don't think I can handle even ONE more thing and get to find out that I have to un-clog the toilet. I just can't. I went into the living room and laid down on the sofa. I did forget about the clog for a while.
Ron's hooked up to his IV and asks, "When do you think we should attack the toilet?" I have to remind him that he's hooked up to the IV and "he" can't do anything. "We" means "me" and I'm just not in the mood. I do have to take care of it before bedtime because that's the only bathroom he can get in and out of.
Ugh! Where are the men of this family?????
Update:
I could not unclog it. It flushes, just v-e-r-y-s-l-o-w-l-y. So, I called the builder and in between sobs asked him if he could send the plumber over who installed it. I think he got the definite correct impression that I was absolutely beyond what I could cope with. He asked if we wanted to go with a higher-grade toilet. Well, that would have been nice while we were BUILDING the house and Ron told him to get a BETTER toilet with a power flush. So now we're in a position to not be able to buy the better toilet (several hundred dollars).
Ain't life just a bowl of cherries? Somehow, the pits got mixed up a lot with this bowl.
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