For which I would shower twice in one day.

Yesterday I went to the bathroom. Sparing no details, I assure you it was number one. Simple and easy for the toilet to digest.

Or so I thought.

I flushed. Instead of the contents being pulled away into the septic oblivion, the water level in my toilet rose. I watched with growing anxiety as the murky water inched up the porcelain bowl. Oh no. We all know what that means. Time to pull out the plunger. Now, on a side note, I hate plunging . . . I abhor it. I'm not even ashamed to admit that on occasion I've left the plugged toilet for Mark to take care of, while I acted innocent to the cause. So, needless to say, seeing the speed at which the water was rising, I felt it necessary to do the deed. Plunge.

I plunged. Nothing happened. The water level stayed the same. So I plunged again and again and again. Finally after the fifth plunging I decided, whatever, this one wants to wait for Mark. I left the plunger in the toilet and walked away.

I showered. Forgetting all about the toilet woes, I cleaned off my morning aerobic's sweat. Afterwards I fed Teddy, hung out for awhile and talked about the lego ship he made, and watched a little Scooby Do. About halfway through the show my eye lids started to droop. Oh, I thought. Perfect time to take a 20 minute nap. Letting Teddy finish his show alone, I crept into my bedroom to sleep.

I laid down. A trickling sound echoed out from the bathroom. I sat bolt upright. What the?!? I hurried into the bathroom, skidding to a stop. That darn-devil-toilet was leaking who knows what all over my bathroom floor. Clearly at this point, I couldn't wait for Mark to come home and plunge. NO, it was up to me.

I plunged. I plunged so hard that I figured the toilet would suck down all the pee-water and what was now coating my floor. Boy was I wrong.

The toilet exploded! It geysered. It erupted like Mt. St. Helens. An unrelenting torrent of pee water shot out of the toilet at me coating my clean body.

I freaked.

I screamed.

I called Mark.

oh, and then I had the notion to pull out towels before filthy stinkin' pee water destroyed my upstairs and downstairs.

Needless to say, Mark came home, saved the day, de-clogged the toilet, and even did the wash. Way to go babe! You rock my Pee soaked world.