To add to my misery during this COVID-19 crisis, as I worry about family and special friends, more trouble beckoned.
Yesterday TLW (The Little Woman) announced to all within earshot that the toilet downstairs was running. “THE TOILET IS RUNNING!!!” thus confirming the claim I just made. I think I was the only one who heard her. Since it was a stormy day yesterday, I decided I would just use the upstairs toilet for those occasions such as reading, contemplating, and general mundane use as everyday needs until I am ready to fix things.
This morning I had a great idea… go online to order the part from Home Depot and have them mail it to me. This would serve two purposes, 1) Stay away from the possibility of getting the Japanese version of the Coronavirus, the Corollavirus, and B) put off fixing it for a day or two so I could work up the willpower to fix it! I made my suggestion since I am the man of the house, she said: “NO!”
My suggestion was taking away a memory she is desperately trying to keep alive, shopping. “I will go to Walmart, I need some things anyway.” Was her earnest reply.
As I stumbled through my pathetic life, TLW jumped happily into her car and drove off, returning within the hour with a few things and unfortunately the parts I needed to fix the toilet.
“JOE, I’M BACK WITH THE PARTS!” she gently yelled up to me in my office, causing me to stop what I was doing or say I caught the virus and need to go to bed. I… chose the truth!
When I have chores that require parts, two things happen, A) it will be a pain in the ass to undo old connections, in this case, 21 years old, and 2) there will be a pain, much pain, pain like arthritic back reminding me I am an old fart, and why are you doing this, stupid?
I dig out my tools and begin, as I get down on my knees under the flush tank, I feel this presence over me, and without looking up, shifting my eyes slightly and see a pair of sneakers, they look like TLW’s. I wait and sure enough: “You want a pot under there?”
“Sure, I was going to ask for a pot!” As I venture forward, a little cussing, a little ache, and a whole lot of direction from the sneaker lady, I along with her, complete the task at hand.
Well, everything seems to have gone off neatly, that is it seems to flush well. This has me concerned after the first try. Now, every time I sit there I will wonder if it will come apart and I will have to swim away amidst some horrible things I will not mention. Tonight, while in bed, I will lay awake wondering if the trouble will start while I’m asleep or have the decency to at least wait until after breakfast. If nothing happens, this is what you call 'Lucky' at my age in bed.
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