Never call me to be your plumber. This afternoon I tried to fix my leaky faucet. This is an epic tale of stupidity, rushing water, and fatigued belly dancing abs. I felt very confident in my repair skills. Heck, I walked into Lowe’s wearing my Carhart jacket – my iPhone. Yes, any sales associate that met me would either think I was a knowledgeable do-it-yourself kind of girl or an American Leaguer. But I didn’t need any help finding the part I needed to fix my leaky faucet. This only increased my over inflated ego. Imagine if Maverick had to fix a faucet in the officer’s quarters… “You never close your eyes any more.” Yes, that was my stupidity. Goose should have fixed the faucets, not Maverick.
So purchase the parts at Lowe’s with no help, arrive at the Willow Creek Estates, and confidently fix the facet. Everything went great, easy peasy rice and cheesy!!! But wait, in my hour of victory I realized that my hot water faucet was not symmetrical with my cold water facet, GREAT SCOTT!!! Visualize the water spout in the twelve o’clock position. Now the cold water facet is perpendicular to the water spout while the hot water faucet is at an obtuse angle to the water spout. I need my right angles. This is not acceptable to Red Bull!!!!
I leave it alone to grab some food. In my darkest hour, I get bored and call Charity. No, boredom did not lead me to Charity, my husband lead me to boredom. While chatting with her I get the brilliant/not so brilliant idea to twist the facet mount in hopes of realigning it. I go in there very willy nilly with my Twisted Taco plastic cup in one hand and my Motorola Razor in the other. I start twisting with the crescent wrench and just as I get it to move I think, “Shouldn’t I have turned off the water.” I have never seen Old Faithful, but the geyser that was my bath tub would rival most any.
I dropped the phone while talking to Charity. She was working at Thomas Kinkade. I rapidly found relief and turned off the water. I know how to re-fix my faucet, because I get inventive. Yes, I screwed up. I used my phone once more before it seized up and died. Yes, the water has gotten the best of my phone. Now I am left with an antique rotary dial phone and my once useful Motorola Razor dead. I tried using my hair dryer on the black beast. But I couldn’t revive her. Long live my cell phone.
Funny thing is, I got my Carhart jacket in lieu of an iPhone. Now with the death of my Razor, my fingers are crossed. But I am not done with this story. I looked Thomas Kinkade’s number up online. I wanted to reassure Charity that I didn’t die in a horrific bathroom accident. I told her of my stupidity and boredom. She laughed and giggled until her abs hurt. See her abs have been in hibernation. She is now taking belly dancing and they are a little sore. She chuckled at me while my friends online knew this would make it to the blog someday.
I love my blog, but I hate cleaning up water. There is water on all four walls, the ceiling and the floor. I am soaked from head to toe and my dog thinks I am an idiot. The moral of this story is, never do plumbing while chatting on your Razor. It will be easier with an iPhone. There is after all, an application for plumbing on the iPhone.