March 7, 2007

Taking the Plunge

I brought up the subject of poo with my friend eb. She remarked that we had discussed poo not that long ago. There we were talking about it again! But this was different poo and a different story.

My mother told me a bizarre tale. My version will spare you the convoluted who-was-where-doing-what-when backstory and hop right to the poo part.

She had a group of friends over to play Mahjong. They play regularly, rotating hostesses. That particular day one of those little old ladies took a big enough poo in my mother's upstairs bathroom to cause the toilet to clog and overflow.

That event unto itself is not bizarre. I mean really. Who hasn't had a toilet clog on them at one time or another? It's the nature of a toilet. And bowels. The question becomes, just what does one do when it happens?

In spring 2001, we hosted a French foreign exchange student. His name was Alex. He spoke limited English. For six weeks, he lived with our family and attended high school with The Boy. He had been with us for about two weeks when one evening he raced into the kitchen, gesturing wildly, a panicked look on his face.

Our toilet had clogged when he flushed. It was full of shit and almost overflowing. Alex knew what to do: get help! The Boy quickly plunged it. Problem solved, tragedy averted.

My mother keeps a plunger behind both her toilets. We keep ours handy in the closet just outside the bathroom door. When a plunger is needed, it is of great benefit to have one close at hand.

But that little old lady did not use the handy plunger. Nor did she mention to anyone at all that the upstairs toilet had overflowed. She just took her seat at the table and resumed playing Mahjong, saying nothing of the craptacular mess she had made upstairs. My mother discovered it shortly after the game ended and all had departed.

I'd like the give that little old lady the benefit of the doubt. I'd like to think she didn't realize the toilet was overflowing. But given the detail of events, it doesn't take Perry Mason to connect the dots. There is just no way she didn't know.

So I asked eb, "What would you have done given those circumstances?"

"I so would have plunged!" she stated vehemently.

Of course. I would have too.

And if that didn't work, I'd have hollered for help despite unavoidable personal mortification over the situation. It's embarrassing to clog a toilet. There's often poo involved. Real poo, not just talked-about poo. Real poo is private, to be shared with only the most intimate of loved ones and then only when it cannot reasonably be avoided. Or is it just me?

Can you plunge a toilet?
If not, I suggest you learn.
It's a skill everyone should master.

.

19 comments:

Melodee said...

I have three boys. I practically INVENTED plunging. I am the Queen of the Plunger. I should have a sash.

Anonymous said...

but also...given the fact that these women are friends and they're old (old people aren't supposed to give a damn about what others think), you'd think the woman could have declared to your mom, 'Gracious me, I just dropped a Kong the size of the Titanic, bow howdy do I feel great, but sorry dear, your crapper overflowith. Oh, btw, Mah Jong, girls!'

WenWhit said...

I'd damn near forgotten that particular episode of our foreign exchange experience LOL

I'm not sure, but I think I might be envious of Kitty Litter. I'll have to look into this air cartridge device of which she speaks. Surely it can blow shit other than, well, shit.

ksf said...

this blog is always the most entertaining read of the day for me.

the line that had me cracking up today was "craptacular mess ". if i'm ever in the prediciment described here, i'm gonna use that line! "come quick! i've created a craptacular mess!"

too funny!

Gina said...

I know how to plunge. We also have a mini-snake, but I'm not exactly sure how to use it. But based on Mr. P's pooping habits, I should learn how, pronto.

weese said...

our plunger is in the bathroom closet... if you should need it.

Bent Fabric said...

LMFAO @ eb!

I've got one handy but thanks to the Porcelain Gods I've never had to use it.

cbar said...

Every toilet, should have a plunger. The greatest overflow story I have every witnessed was just recently, our first day in VA. My boyfriend was using the bathroom, and on the phone, and he started screaming for me to come help him...when I went it, pertified of what I might find, I found my boyfriend, with a towel wrapped around his arm attempting to plunge the toilet with just that! I'll be damned if it didn't work, but it was one of the most disgusting and hysterical moments of our relationship so far.

Eyes for Lies said...

Okay, clue me in. How do you know for sure the woman saw it overflowed?

Being hypothetical,she could have done her biz, stood up, got dressed fully and right before she walked out the door -- hit the lever. Then immediately left the room.

Damn, that's an awful story!!

Middle Girl said...

Who leaves a visiting bathroom before you know your poo has been sucked down? Almost as bad as overflowing toilets..is seeing the floating poo of the previous depositor.

sporksforall said...

Plungers at all toilets. I prefer the classic red ones without the lower part. Just a rubber cup on a stick.

Now, I can't get the hang of drain snakes, but that's another story. Less poo.

nina michelle said...

*gak*

the only "poo" we talk about in this house is the one with an "h" on the end......

yes yes yes....I have a plunger...I have no idea where it is though...

believe me I will find it pronto if my lesbian blogger friends come to visit me though.... *snort*

SassyFemme said...

Quite brave of you to plunge into such a shitty topic.

Actually, as I sit here and think about it, there's no plunger in the guest bath upstairs. Of course there's no closet in there either. How does one decorate a plunger so it doesn't look really crappy next to the toilet?

nina michelle said...

SassyF~ have you thought about buying a decorative plunger cozy?

agoodlistener said...

We have one plunger. It sits by the toilet where it was last required. This means the other toilet will be the one that needs it next. Thus, we will have to race upstairs (or down) to find said plunger. Why don't I just move it immediately and save the aggravation?

chapin said...

Oh dear...so much shit to wade thru after being gone for four days. Great story!!! Poo is such a hard topic to talk about but you've covered it very well. :-)

Teresa said...

Well, of course I would plunge in such circumstances, assuming that I could ever emit poo of such proportions—you know how delicate I am.

The people who drive me around the bend are those whose bathrooms lack said visible contrivances—the implication being that they are above such waste issues. Hell, why not forgo toilet paper as well? And what's that big ceramic thing doing in the wash room anyway?

Anonymous said...

Pardon the pun but...Holy Shit! LMAO! Wow. What nerve LOL.

The Scarlet Pervygirl said...

I would have climbed out the bathroom window and shimmied down the trellis or just jumped the 20 feet and walked to the nearest plunger-selling store, even if it was several counties away, then walked back and plunged the toilet or even REPLACED the toilet before admitting to anyone that I had produced enough poo at one go to clog it. Pooping is roughly on the same level as murder, for me--it is not something other people need to know you engage in.