A Typical $900 Sunday Afternoon

Our house was pretty quiet yesterday until just after my post-run shower. See, there was this leak in the tub. The faucet. It leaked. Non-stop. All day, everyday. I would walk by it in the morning and find that H had stuffed towels around it to stop the drip, drip, drip, drip sound that was apparently driving him mad. It was like weevils in the brain to him. He could not abide it. It kept him up at night. It drove him to distraction. Me? I never heard a thing.

He casually mentioned to me over breakfast yesterday that he would be going to the hardware store to fix this leak. "A $5 or $10 job." he said. I agreed and off he went. Then as I was about to blow dry my hair I heard it. The first bit that would be a string of swear words. He was cussing out the pipes. I went back to diverting T.D. from using too much mousse on her own hair and blocked her ears with the sounds of NPR, when I heard a clang and more swearing. This time it was followed by, "Hon, I think we need to call a plumber." Oh! Suddenly it is a 'we' thing. Insert my own swear words here. "Why?" I asked with bated breath. "Because I just broke some pipes. I need you to turn on all the faucets in the house NOW!" He bellowed.

OK. First? I had on no pants. All the shades were up too. Should I really be running wild in my house like that? No. But when I broached that with him all I got was some muttering about it being my fault if the house flooded. Right. I turned on all the faucets. If my neighbors see my white butt so be it. I'm saving the house right? Then I yanked out the phone book and walked upstairs just as T.D. tried to fix the pipes herself. H looked at me and stated, "I need to cut a hole in our bedroom wall." I gulped. A hole? Oh sweet baby Jesus! A hole in the wall! Exposed pipes would greet us each morning when we woke. Is this really necessary? Can't we just call a plumber? H would not relent. Out came a saw as he and I (with great regret) moved the furniture to make room for tools and the holes debris (gasp!). He knocked out small pieces with a hammer at first. Dry wall crumbled and dust puffed out into the air. My stomach lurched and I winced. I could not look, yet I was frozen in place as the beautiful cocoa colored wall became another home improvement project. I retreated to busy T.D. She was intrested in straightening her hair with the Chi.

Then I heard it again. Swearing. I looked down and H declared, "Well I've broken two pipes." He lay on his back on the floor. A man defeated. I groaned and came down the stairs to survey the new damage. Ugh. It was more than I could bear. I put the phone book in front of him and gave him the phone. "It's what we need to do. You know it is the right thing. Hon, you are good at real estate investing, but electrical and plumbing is not your forte. Just make the call." Head hung in shame and defeat H called our local plumber. After it was all settled that the plumber would indeed come by H looked at me and said, "I feel emasculated." I patted him on the leg and said, "That's fine. Now wait for the plumber I'm going to the grocery store."

Three hours and $900 later with two plumbers and two traffic stopping/blocking plumbing trucks it was fixed. No more leak and with new hardware in the tub. They both made sure to tell me that they would have done the same things that H had done. Broken pipes and all. Manufacturer defect and old-age and all that. I just smiled. Thanks boys, but the man's not in trouble. When I told H this he smiled like a little boy. "They did? Awww." He seemed so proud. He was almost there! He could have fixed it on his own he declared. I just gave him THAT look. Discussion closed with one request. My request? That the hole in the wall (now bigger) would take precedence over my bathroom (STILL not fixed by the way Internets). I NEED IT FIXED THIS WEEK not 20 months from now. I will not be going to BlogHer telling people "No, I still can't hang my towels and yes, the hole is still there."

I'll keep you posted.