We have double-sinks in our master bath. My husband has his, and I have mine. My husband’s is closer to the medicine cabinet where our tooth brushes are, so his actually gets used more than mine, which is over by the door. Back when we were both getting ready at the same time, double-sinks was a life-saver, if not a marriage-saver.
Now, it’s not so critical.
Still, imagine our dismay when his sink appeared to be clogged. Nothing is more annoying than a clogged drain, and one day, he decided to put one of the heavy-duty clog busters down it. He even taped off the sink so that we wouldn’t forget to leave it alone while the chemicals worked their magic.
That night, the clog still held a tight grip on the plumbing.
So, he tried another treatment.
Again, the clog claimed victory.
The weekend came and went. The week did the same. The next weekend proved to be full of other home-improvement projects. (I’ll get to that later this week…) We didn’t have time to address the clogged-sink issue.
By Monday, I’d had enough. Daddy is so busy with other things, that I didn’t have the heart to nag remind him. How hard can it be? I know what needs to happen, and as long as I’m careful, I can fix this clog.
After eight years in the home-improvement trenches, there aren’t many tasks that could scare me away completely.
I knew enough about plumbing that you have to take out the U-joint-thingy. Other parts may have to come apart, too, and as long as you pay attention to where they go when you put them back, you’ll be fine.
Claire and I had Ballet that morning, and I told her that when we got back from that, we’d have lunch, and then we’d fix the clog in the sink.
She was all excited. “After lunch, we get to figure out the sink…right, Momma!?”
“Right!” I’m good at faking enthusiasm. In fact, the better you are at pretending, the more enthusiastic you really become.
I got out my dish-gloves and laughed at the fact that they matched my hot-pink strappy sandals. What an awesome coincidence!
I got down on my hands and knees and assessed the situation. I cleaned out the cabinet (okay, truth be told, I just shoved stuff over to make room), and put a bucket under there to catch the water from when I unscrewed the pipe.
See? I know what I’m doing.
I carefully unscrewed the connectors, got the U-joint-thingy out of there and then nearly passed out from the stench.
Stench!? I had NOT anticipated that.
“Momma!? What’s wrong!?” Claire asked, concerned. “Why are you making those noises?”
Somehow I kept it all together. I think the thought of spilling this black goopy slime on the bathroom floor helped me stay focused. The thought of having to clean up barf in addition to that terrible mess gave me added resolve.
“This smells terrible, Claire. I’m trying not to gag.”
For whatever reason, she thought the word gag was the most hilarious word ever, and she kept singing it as she danced around.
“It’s okay, Momma,” she said when her song was finished. “I’ll help you!”
With my little plumber-apprentice right on my heels, I made several trips to the kitchen with the pieces of the sink’s underbelly. Using a bucket from the shed, I cleaned all the parts and didn’t barf once.
I knew in the back of my mind that there was another section of the sink that could be the hiding the Creature of Black Doom, but I was hoping that all the grossness I’d already eradicated was the key.
I got all the pieces put back on.
I turned the water on.
…but no water draining from the sink at all.
All of this torturous activity and clog was still there!?
I summoned every ounce of my energy and went in again, telling myself that I had made progress, just not enough.
Our sinks have really fancy-schmancy stoppers. You can’t just pull up the plug and take them out. You have to unscrew a part in the back, under the sink, to release it from the drain, and all of this is easier to do when you take apart the other pieces. Again.
I figured out how to do that. I took apart the pipes again so that I could get a good view.
I will not describe to you what I removed from that section of pipe. Only Mulder and Scully would be able to determine exactly what it was. I did not let Claire see it. I ran to the toilet before it had a chance to lash out at me, and I flushed it away.
I can only hope it isn’t attacking some poor seaside village as we speak.
I got everything put back together, and the water runs freely now. The clog is gone! Now, does anyone have any Mental Drano®? **No, we don’t use Drano®, because it’s not good for older pipes. Images from that little foray into plumbing are still clogged in my brain, and there are just some things you can’t un-see.
In the meantime, Claire thinks it’s pretty awesome that Momma can take apart (and put back together) a sink. I think the hot-pink gloves and and matching sandals made all the difference.