THE PROBLEM WITH PLUMBING
Today was the day I was going to fix the drain upstairs. I was sick of it. Before you get thinking that I’m plumber, relax. I’m not. It was just a slow drain and I was going to treat it harshly with natural chemicals. I’m eco-friendly. I got online and typed in “how to unclog a drain naturally.” I could’ve gotten sucked into the zillions of sites and Youtube videos for hours, but I didn’t. Instead, I chose the easiest one I could do with the materials I had on hand.
Baking soda and vinegar. I got the supplies together. I had the gallon of vinegar in one hand when Layce stopped me. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m fixing the drain upstairs. I’m sick of looking at my toothpaste residue swirl around in the basin. It’s repulsive.”
“Great. I like when you take household matters into your own hands.” (Those would be famous last words.)
I’d skimmed the article and did not (perhaps) make complete notes. I didn’t want to go look it up again so I winged it. The gist of it was hot water, baking soda, and vinegar. So I shook some baking soda down the drain and turned on the hot water, then poured in the vinegar.
Now, in my defense there was an evident oversight in my youthful education in the chemistry department. Apparently, when you combine certain above mentioned ingredients they are explosive. Of course, it’s the quantity that determines the size of the explosion. Due to my cavalier attitude concerning the use of the correct and precise directions I had no idea how much I’d put in—a bit like the pinch of that and dash of this kind of thing.
I watched as it gurgled then poofed out white foamy stuff “Ha, it’s working, and working. And it’s still working,” I said, as the foamy stuff fell over the edge of the sink onto the floor.
“Layce??!!” I called downstairs.
“What?”
“Do you remember why I came up here?”
“To fix the drain.”
“It’s not fixed. It’s more broken.”
“How broken?” she said. I could hear her getting up out of her chair.
“Like we might need the shop wet vac.”
She ran up the stairs. She looked into the bathroom—at the sink—at the floor. “What did you do?” She narrowed her eyes, “Exactly?”
“Hot water, vinegar, and baking soda in unknown quantities.”
“You know that’s how you make a bomb, right?”
“No, I did not,” I said, as more foamy stuff came out of the drain onto floor. We were both standing in white foamy liquid.
“You can blow the pipes out if you put enough of that stuff in it,” she said, pointing at the gallon of vinegar sitting next to the oversized box of baking soda.
“Well, at least I didn’t do that,” I said, throwing bath towels down to sop up the water.
And then there was a pop and water rushed out the bottom of the pipe. I stared at it. “Well, at least the drain isn’t clogged anymore,” I said.
I have henceforth learned (online) that the pipe was most likely in need of repair as it was suffering the effects of old age. That the “bomb” was not in any way responsible for the burst pipe.
I cannot emphasis enough the importance of following directions.
If you need a good laugh and some good loving, here it is. It’s available now!
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saxon bennett 