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    You can only hope this will be the last of the plumbing stories

    October 4, 2006

    When Derek got home from work yesterday, I still hadn’t gone to the hardware store to pick up the water lines.  This, as you can imagine, did not go over well.  In my defense, there was in “incident” involving The Boy and then he fell asleep and slept all afternoon.  If I had a nanny, or if it was socially responsible to just LEAVE a 19 month old sleeping in his bed to go to the hardware store, I would have done it.  I offered to go myself but there we were, all piled in the truck together. 

    When we got home, I started to trudge up the stairs.

    K:  Do you want to come up and watch me do it?
    D:  Nah, I just wait until you are done and then come upstairs and fix it.

    Bastard. 

    I’m not going to mention any names but SOMEONE got the wrong water lines.  So I was of to return them.  And back home again.  I managed to get twist my body (read pregnancy chest) into the miniscule cabinet underneath the sink when suddenly I was joined by The Boy.  He had graham cracker breath that filled the cabinet instantly.  I don’t know how he got them since I try to never feed The Boy.  It was like being stuck in the Keebler Elf Treehouse with all the windows shut.  He had no problem getting his very little body through the other door of the cabinet and closing the door behind him.  So now I was operating in a 1.5 square foot area with Mr. Graham King and the light that can shine in between the frame on my side and my every growing chest.  The Boy had a piece of the old pipe in his hand and was swinging it around.  Did I mention we were in the clown car of cabinets?


    K:  Hey, WATCH THAT!!!  You are going to poke me in the eye.


    He started to crawl up my body and only when his little fingers were poked into my eye sockets did I realize that he thought I was asking him to tell me where my eyes were located on my face.  Which I was most DEFINITELY not doing.  So now I am stuck under the cabinet trying to wield a 17 pound pipe wrench in the dark with a toddler smelling like a s’more without all the good ingredients, trying to poke my eyes out.

    K:  DEEERRRRRRREEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

    In case you were wondering, he did come to extricate us.  Because he is good like that.  And the sink is fixed.  I rock.

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