In the end, it was the animal crackers…
My expiration date as a homeowner had come nigh. I wanted out! Upgrades to improve salability were a must. At my realtor’s suggestion, I asked his recommended interior house painter for suggestions of skilled and affordable folks to install full-house laminate flooring. Hey, easy-peasy…..
…until after the flooring was installed. A disturbing odor, and I’m being exceedingly kind, began emanating from the master bathroom. A really, really unfortunate odor. Past experience led me to believe some poor critter had somehow made entrance into my crawlspace and expired. Oh, goody, even more bucks out the window as I now needed to contact a wildlife removal technician.
Vernon, the wildlife removal expert, arrived and entered the crawlspace. What can I say? I adore animals. I awaited the news of what kind of critter had met its demise, with a strong sense of sadness. Vernon, a taciturn kind of guy, silently came back in the house, entered the impacted bathroom, flushed the toilet, and headed back to the crawlspace. Getting very, very nervous.
Vernon returned.
“It’s the toilet. It’s leaking sewage into your crawl space.” My internal reaction to this statement likely exceeded a 6+ on a California earthquake scale. However, only one minuscule expletive escaped my lips as I maintained a measure of self restraint. Sewage aside (is that possible?), I graciously thanked and paid Vernon. (My mother taught me well.)
It’s not that I wanted a beloved animal to meet its end in my crawl space. But the unabashed and embarrassing truth? All things considered (primarily, my wallet), my preference would have been for a furry critter to take its leave of this mortal coil in my dry, warm, and upgraded crawlspace. I would have saved a hell of a lot of money. Thus speaks my fallible and honest human heart…
Plumbers called. Outcome? The two toilets had been incorrectly re-installed after the new laminate flooring was laid. Both were leaking sewage…blah, blah, blah. The brand new laminate flooring in both bathrooms needed replacing, as well as portions of the sub-flooring.
Do plumbers undertake double duty as therapists? (There’s probably a distinct need for that skill set.) Emblematic of skilled therapists, Nick and Lee, the plumbers, listened as I spent several minutes deep in invective city. They kindly counseled that more of the same was likely warranted. Absolution, by plumbers. So needed.
Considering my pronounced victimhood tendencies, I’ll spare you all the details of the restoration company inspection, the insurance agent chat about my very large deductible, and my exceedingly temper-restrained discussion with the middleman who engaged the ‘expert’ floor installers. (Can this sentence get any longer?) At his cost, the floor installer would return and rectify (please god) the mistakes. And, yes, I turned down the installer’s offer, post-repair, to once again, re-install both toilets. (Are you kidding?!)
My spirits and wallet felt deeply depleted on the heels of this mess. Waiting for the next proverbial shoe to drop. That and the non-stop puns from friends about “how much crap I was having to deal with.”
My lovely next-door neighbors opened their doors to me for several nights, considering my seriously afflicted bathrooms. Granted, we keep very different hours in our lives. They’re late-night TV-watching folks and I’m Ms. “need to be in bed by 9 PM.” But, hell, it wasn’t Motel 6 and food was included. My wallet was safe from further exploitation.
Our late-night, super-charged, animal cracker binge, while watching the Dallas Cowboys, was unexpected. But personal healing often arrives in unanticipated forms, doesn’t it? Binging on animal crackers, cheering on the Dallas Cowboys (and I don’t even like football), way, way beyond my bedtime, was the balm my parched soul didn’t know it needed. The little girl who lives within me was, once again, a happy camper. Welcome back!
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