Murphy and Toilets...

My husband tries so hard to be a handyman. He gives 110% to every task he sets out to do and usually after 4 or 5 tries he is victorious. When there is a handyman task to be done, the kids and I usually leave the house--it can get ugly. The last task he set out to do was to replace the light in the kitchen. This entailed checking to see if it was the light fixture that was busted or if there was no electricity coming through the wires. In this case he was able to use some fun little gadget that told him how many bitta bites of electricity were pulsing through there (bitta bites is a technical term-look it up in the "housewife's manual to technical terms"). After playing with this fun gadget that only men gets their thrills from, it was determined that it indeed was the light fixture.

Now, you should know that before all of this, he was changing light bulb after light bulb from the fixture--even going so far as to wear special gloves to screw in the light bulb for fear of it exploding from the oils on his hands. This was all entertaining to me... especially waiting for the light bulb to self destruct like a mission impossible message! Long story short, after 3 trips to Home Depot, he was able so successfully replace the light fixture and to this day when I walk into the kitchen I say a little pray before flipping on the switch--Praise the Lord it still works! He was able to retain his hero status in the family and life went on.

Well, last night as I was giving the little one a bath I noticed that the wood around our toilet was looking damp. After some investigation which entailed me getting on my hands and knees and wedging myself between the tub and toilet to take a look at the rear of the toilet--which most moms know is the "danger zone" and should only be done with a surgical mask and iron clad gloves on, I discovered that the toilet was in fact leaking. What to do... What to do! I stuck a towel back there and finished bathing the little one, got her dressed, read her a story, said our prayers, put Holy Water on her head (she cannot go to sleep without this last important step) and turned out her light. I headed back into the bathroom to check my towel placement-and low and behold the towel was pretty well soaked. DANG!

My first instinct was to not tell my handyman husband and to just call a professional handyman in the morning. But then I started to panic... what if he walks in the bathroom and yells "WHO LEFT A TOWEL ON THE FLOOR?" I could do two things at that moment, I could ignore it and let the kids take the fall (which is mean, but this is survival here people) or I could tell him about the leak. How to tell him, How to tell him... OK, so I decided to tell him that I was going to hire a handyman because there is a leak in the toilet and we need to get it fixed pronto (did I mention that we have family coming in town tomorrow and this is the bathroom that they will use?)

I walked down the stairs and tossed this statement nonchalantly at him in hopes that he would say "OK" and return to watching American Idol (which he loves to watch but will never admit that). Well... my luck for the day must have been used up in traffic because he instantly got up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. After some discussion and so forth he determined that it was just a simple bolt that needed to be screwed tighter-"Simple fix babe-no worries." Famous last words.

In the end... we somehow managed to get a cracked toilet tank and water was a'flowin! It happened so fast and although he turned off the water to the toilet, the tank was still full and flowing out. ARGHHHHHH! After some quick thinking he flushed the toilet and that took care of most water in the tank since it could not fill up with the water turned off. I did not know this-I know many things, how to diaper a newborn, how to juggle three kids in the grocery, how to pump gas, how to make dinner while talking on the phone to the bank and quietly reprimanding our son to the point that he is shaking in his boots without missing a beat on both the bank conversation or the stirring of the dinner... but I did not know this. Men must go to a different school where they get to learn all of these little helpful hints... it is called "Husband to the Rescue School" where they learn to rescue their wives even when the disaster has come at their own hands!

So now we no longer have a little hand towel at the rear of the toilet... we have a bucket. I get to go purchase a new tank this morning at the Toilet Tanks R Us Depot where Bubba and Gomer work--I am calling this a school field trip. Hopefully this will not fall under the "how NOT to install a toilet tank" lesson 101. I am going to leave my son and my husband at home tonight to complete this handyman task while the girls and I go to the grocery. I think we will be safer out of the house...