Friday, January 25, 2008

And Then She Called the Shit Poop

It's a rare event when I don't have to deal with other peoples' feces on a daily basis. Yesterday Sam pooped while at school, and Lucy didn't poop at all which meant I had a poop-free day.

Today, the universe made me pay.

SOB and I have become totally wrapped up in the ShoTime series Weeds. Since the writers' strike began we've been watching many many new series DVDs. Last night we finished watching season 2 on disc, so we went upstairs to watch season 3 in our guest room. (Our comcast box with on demand is in there, by the way.) Throughout the duration we both used the hall bathroom, which doesn't see much action. Plus, we live in a old house. Despite our old pipes the previous owner installed water saving toilets. I'm all for conservation, but because these toilets usually require more than one flush for anything more the three squares of paper, they're probably not as efficient as they're intended to be. By the end of the night, it had seemingly become clogged. Since the plunger was downstairs, I decided it could wait until morning and we went to bed.

Cut to 9am. I was heading upstairs to change for the gym when I remember the previous evening's situation and grabbed the plunger. Allison had Sam up on the third floor and I had Lucy with me. I dropped her off in my room and headed back to the hall bathroom to plunge away. I started plunging, and after three or four thrusts of the plunger I tried a flush.

That was my first mistake.

The plunging didn't really do much, and so the flush was ineffective. The water in the bowl started to rise. Also, a few small pieces of poop appeared out of nowhere. Crap, I thought to myself. Literally and figuratively. In the past when I've had the unpleasant privilege of toilet plunging, I've found that normally one flush isn't enough to overflow a bowl. Usually once the water gets to a certain level the tank stops running.

This toilet wasn't following protocol.

The water kept pouring into the bowl. I quickly realized that very shortly I was going to standing in poop water. I grabbed the white rug off the floor and threw it on the sink. But in my haste to save the rug, I inadvertently trapped myself between the now-overflowing toilet and the door. I started screaming for help, and sweet sweet Allison came running to save me.

And then she froze.

She stood on the landing looking down in horror. 'I see it! I see the poop!' she started screaming. 'Oh god! It's coming out! It's on the floor!'

Sam was laughing hysterically.

Since we had several house guests last weekend, we had stocked the shelves with clean towels. I grabbed six or seven of our nice guest towels and threw them down onto the floor, moping up as much poop water as I could to keep it from running into the hall and guest room. It took me a few seconds, but I finally realized that I had to turn the water off. I slammed the lid and jumped on. Groping around behind the tank, I managed to grasp the valve only to find it stuck. I guess it hadn't been used in a while. In my panic stricken state, I had a bout of super human strength and the valve released.

The water, it stopped flowing into the bowl and onto my floor.

I stood up, carefully placing my feet onto the towels. Looking down I saw half a dozen small turds sitting on the floor.

Allison had, by this time, gotten more towels and brought me a phone. I was in some sort of hysterical state. I was crying, laughing and completely insane. The poop water was starting to seep through the towels and into my socks. I had gotten poop water on my arms while trying to turn off the water.

Downstairs, unbeknown to us, drops of yellow/brown water started leaking from the threshold between the entry hall and the dining room.

After 15 minutes of cleaning and some serious hand washing, we headed downstairs still unaware of the dripping poop water. I passed through the doorway unscathed, but poor Allison.

Poor, poor Allison.

As she passed through, a drop fell onto her. In her shock and surprise, she looked up. And got a drop square on the forehead. The screaming began a new.

Needles to say, there was a great deal of bleach used in our house today.

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super des said...

this was an exciting thrill ride. Had me on the edge of my seat, which is thankfully poop-free.

susan said...

Ah, one of the many glories of home ownership. We had a similar set-up with our century old house in San Antonio... the minute or so after flushing was always accompanied by prayers and holding your breath while you waited for the water, etc. to disappear. And listened to make sure that no one else in the house was startled by an unexpected appearance. However. The dripping? That is an experience I'm quite content to say I can't relate to. Poor Allison!

Arizaphale said...

This is the best! I have thankfully never had to deal with escapee turds making their way out of the toilet. I have had bath turds and overflowing nappy turds...but the relentless rise of the turd on water would send me into the same fit of manic laughter you describe. Did you stop to examine whose turds they were?????????hahahahahahahahaha