Justin vs The Think n’ Stink

Those of you who’ve been following GenXDaddy know that Justin has cost me thousands of dollars in repairs to the sewage pipes under my house, including the pipes directly under my driveway (which had to be jack hammered and then repaved) and the pipes leading all the way back to the main sewer line at the street. Pipes that have stood the test of time for over 50 years have been pushed past their limits by the “imp” living in my house who thinks it’s funny to flush strange objects down the toilet. We have been incident free for several months and I assumed we had a few more years before Garrett’s potty training put our pipes to the test once again.

Even though Justin is fully potty trained, he refuses to wipe his own butt. To this day, he still calls for me to “take care of his business” and then requests that I use a Wet Wipe to make sure he is clean. (Yes, I take requests.) GWE and I have been encouraging him to wipe his own butt, but he has not yet taken the initiative.

On Saturday afternoon, while I was feeding Garrett, Justin announced that he needed his butt wiped….again. I thought it was a great opportunity for me to NOT be available. I told him that I was feeding the baby and he would have to do it himself. Then, there was silence.

All I heard was a flush and an “uh-oh.” Then, I saw Justin sheepishly walking down the hall. I stopped him and asked, “Why did you say ‘uh-oh’?” He replied that he thought he used too much toilet paper, but it was ok now because it all went down the potty. I went over to the toilet and looked into the bowl suspiciously. I saw nothing and slowly backed away. For the rest of the day, we were incident free.

At 1:00am, I turned off the television so I could go to bed. Bleary-eyed, I headed to the bathroom for one final chance to “put one through the hoop.” When I was done, I flushed and heard the toilet respond in a long and low“GUUUULLLLLP.” I opened one eye and looked into the bowl. What I saw was the potty equivalent of when prospectors strike oil. Brown water began to surge to the surface. In a moment of either brilliant ingenuity or complete stupidity, I grabbed a nearby vase and with both hands I plunged it deeply into the murky waters. I began pulling quart after quart of “turd juice” out of the toilet and disposed of it in the sink in the hopes of not having the toilet overflow onto the floor. After a few moments, the tidal wave passed and the toilet was calm once again.

Afterwards, I sprinted to the kitchen sink and began to scrub everything from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my elbows in scalding hot water and anti-bacterial soap. I must have been there for 10 minutes, but I could not get them clean enough. (“Out, damn’d spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then ’tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky.” – Macbeth)

The following day was Mother’s Day. When my wife awoke, I leaned over to her and romantically whispered into her ear, “Happy Mother’s Day. Whatever you do, don’t flush the toilet.” She stared at me for a moment and then rolled over to go back to sleep.

After a few hours (and some cautious use of potty #2), the plumber arrived and was greeted by GWE. He went to the back of the house to snake the drain closest to the bathroom. After a few moments of assessing the problem, he decided that the best plan of attack was to snake the toilet itself. GWE guided him to the bathroom. As he passed by, I hung my head in shame knowing the horror he was about to witness.

Justin was excited to have the workman in the house. It meant that he had someone to supervise. Once the plumber observed the scene, he did the only decent thing he could do in that situation – he closed the door to prevent Justin from seeing the mess he was about to clear out. Not to be deterred, Justin laid on the ground and tried to get a glimpse of the action from the crack between the door and the floor. Hopefully, he saw nothing.

After twenty minutes, the plumber announced he was done and he quickly left. (I can only assume he raced to the closest de-contamination center to cleanse himself.) The toilet was fixed, Justin was excited to re-christen the working bowl, and GWE’s Mother’s Day present this year became the gift of a swift flush.

 

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