The Curse of the Toilet: Friday’s “What the frak?” moment

Friday’s “What the frak…?” moment (WTFM) is brought to you by………..

The (at least) 24 hour Curse of the Toilet:  In an era where they can flush themselves, why hasn’t anyone invented an Overflow Alarm or an Emergency Stop Button?

I was trying to determine the perfect “what the frak…?” topic today, when one literally flooded into my lap.

Well almost.  It was actually my sparkly clean bathroom floor.

Let me back up a bit (pun totally unintended and only discovered upon proof reading).

Last night as I walked upstairs to wake up Lil Diva from an uncharacteristically long nap, I noticed the upstairs bathroom light was on. As I reached for the switch, I discovered The Tackler hadn’t fully flushed the toilet earlier – a small amount of toilet paper remained. So I did the natural thing. I pushed the lever to flush it again.

Instead of going down like it was supposed to, the water began rising in that taunting “Say good-bye to your clean bathroom floor!” way.  Desperate to stop it, I removed the toilet lid to raise the bulb mechanism as I have done so many times in my life.

The bulb and the bar it was attached to snapped off.

That’s right.

It snapped the frak off.

I'm pretty sure the bar shouldn't be that color.. or have growths on it...

Cursing the plumbing industry for not developing indestructible workings of a toilet – how hard can it be to develop something actually water proof for a part that spends its entire working life under water – I was forced to grab the screw that previously attached the bulb’s bar to the main part of the tank.

The white screw on the upper right was where I had to push to stop the tank from filling

It dug into my thumb quite painfully.

By this point the water was high enough that if I released the screw my toilet would be transformed into Niagra Falls.

Which meant I could not reach the Shut Off Valve.

Where the frak was the Emergency Stop Button?  The one labeled “Never Use Except In This Precise Scenario?”

Long story short, luckily I had heard Computer God arriving home – and after much repeated yelling as my thumb was about to give out – he was able to rescue me by turning off the water valve.

A trip to Lowe’s – some internal toilet surgery involving replacing everything – and all was well before my nocturnal Lil Diva finally went to sleep last night.

Or so I thought.

Fast forward to this morning.

Lil Diva nailed her pillow pet with the remnants of her banana snack – because after seeming to mostly outgrow the regurgitation issues she’d had since about two months old, it came back with a vengeance when my house turned Twilight.  It was nasty, my mother in law was over playing with The Tackler, so I figured I’d take five minutes to toss in a load of laundry.

As I walked down the stairs I heard happy squeals echoing in such a way I was certain Lil Diva had found a cave hidden in my house and had gone spelunking.

Instead of finding a cave and her finger painting with bat guano, I discovered her in the downstairs bathroom – where the door had been left open again – with half of the roll of toilet paper in a giant mountain on the floor. The other half was inside the toilet.

I quickly took her away from it, flushed the latter half away, and placed the “good” half on the back of the toilet.

Ten seconds later I wished I’d taken a photo of the mess first.

As I lamented losing a perfect photo op, I failed to verify the flushed evidence had successfully been disposed of.

It’s like a comedy of errors that is so predictable you see the ending coming a mile away. Unless you’re living it.

A few hours later Lil Diva went down for a nap, and The Tackler was off playing Buzz Lightyear.  I plopped onto the couch, reclined, grabbed my laptop, and prepared to finally write “what the frak…?” for today.  I wasn’t too thrilled about the topic and the writing wasn’t really…… flowing (pun completely intended this time).

Ahh, the irony.

In the background of my writing bubble, I heard The Tackler dash for the bathroom.  He prefers privacy so I waited for paging if my services were required.

I recall thinking, “The water sounds a lot louder than normal, but he does like to run it full blast.  How long does he need to wash his hands anyway?

Then The Tackler was before me, naked from the waist down.  Not an uncommon occurrence.  Then I saw his face.

The lips were turned down and his eyes near tears as he sobbed, “There’s lots of water all over the floor.  My pants are all wet.”

The morning’s earlier events fast forwarded through my brain as the reality of what had happened hit me.

I was still unprepared for the sheer volume of water that coated the floor – as though The Tackler had attempted flushing not once, but multiple times.

It's hard to see the puddles... because it is one GIANT puddle coating the ENTIRE floor.

All over my clean, Twilight vampire sparkling floors.

It even leaked through the wall into the garage.

This more accurately illustrates the volume of water - this is what ESCAPED the bathroom.

The only good news?

No excrement was involved.  Thank God.

I found myself wondering…

Why the frak hasn’t anyone invented a Toilet Alarm – designed to go off when the water raises above a certain level,  or when it fails to drain properly?

How many of us could have avoided massive overflows if this simple device existed?

Now I await part three of The Toilet Curse, because everyone knows these things always happen in threes.

The casualties: innocent bystanders of PJs left in the bathroom and Diva's coat that was IN THE HALLWAY - along with the pile of towels required for mopping up.

Is anyone’s Friday more “eventful” than mine?

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
This entry was posted in Lil Diva, The Tackler, What the frack Friday and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to The Curse of the Toilet: Friday’s “What the frak?” moment

  1. Lori Dyan says:

    Omigodomigodomigod! Plumbing drama is the WORST! I so feel your pain, lady…

    Here’s to a dry weekend 😉

    Lori

  2. Kristina says:

    Let me go get you a drink of your choice – you’ve certainly earned it today! {hugs}

    • Kelly K says:

      We all have those days.

      It’s weird how after I blogged about it, I felt better.

      I’m just kicking myself for getting distracted and not double checking the evidence removal.

      Thanks for the drink. 😉

  3. Paige Morgan says:

    Sorry, but you win. Anytime I see toilet paper floating and I flush it, I wonder if I’m about to set off Niagra Falls.

    Great post!

    • Kelly K says:

      I used to wonder that each time as well, but since The Tackler became Potty Trained, it is something I see much more frequently and my proper caution in flushing said toilet paper has vanished.

      I will be more careful in the future. Unless I get interrupted. Again. I think. 🙂

  4. Vicky says:

    Our downstairs toilet is outside (a very odd way of designing houses, but that’s what they did here in the UK for a long time!) and I got home yesterday to find a huge waterfall cascading from the cistern (which is positioned on the wall at head height, another odd design feature). The tap to turn off the water is right below it – and it took a hammer to turn the seized up tap. At least it was outside and didn’t involve any poo. What is it about Fridays?!

    • Kelly K says:

      Perhaps the precise reason the toilet is outside of the house is to prevent water damage to the house should plumbing issues occur – or the owners dare procreate and have toddlers. Imagine if it was off your living room instead with that huge waterfall! That would have taken the “what the frak?” Friday award/curse.

      Yes, we can be thankful for the lack of poo. Always. 🙂

      Thanks for commenting and reading!

  5. A few rolls of toilet paper wrapped up is the perfect gift for kids. They love that stuff.

    • bobbijaye says:

      Ohhh, I’m with you!

      Forget the keyboard I was planning to buy them for Christmas. Tackler and Diva both can get packs of TP. Heck, I’ll even buy them the super-extra-rolls.

      Excellent idea, Mr. McFadden, excellent idea.

      • Kelly K says:

        Give my children TP and they will visit you and bring that as their toy… They don’t even have to stream it everywhere – whatever they miss, Cooper will shred. 🙂 BWAHAHAHA!

    • Kelly K says:

      Only if I get a Toilet Paper Picker Upper to go with the toilet paper. Dear lord, the day my son discovers that teepeeing is fun, I am so screwed.

      I’ll be sure to send TC#4 his own 24 pack of mega rolls for Christmas. I can’t wait to see the blog about the opening… 🙂

  6. Marianne says:

    We lived in an apartment with a toilet that wasn’t supposed to overflow… Nothing much flushed down it, though, if you get my drift. to dream for the perfect toilet…

    • Kelly K says:

      The early “water saver” toilets were a joke and completely useless. There was a way to “jailbreak” them so they function like a normal toilet though.

      Let me know if you find the perfect toilet…

      Thanks for reading and commenting!

  7. A Daddy Blog says:

    Hi Kelly,

    Great to meet you. I’m afraid you win the bad Friday prize. Thanks for stopping by my blog. I’ll head over to yours in a second. Speaking of which, did you use the word “frak”? I thought only guys that still live in their parents basements say that. Okay, not true, I’ve been known to say that… and I’m gainfully employed with a wife and child.

    But I digress, as is my wont. I get a lot of what I assume are Russian spam, too, but if it’s about constructions I have a feeling (though I can’t read most of the words) that they are in the plumbing end of the business. I’ve gotten Twitter spam that draws passages from English literature, so have seen that, too. References to Mr. Darcy give it away.

    Hope you have a great weekend. As you know today was the start of our potty training. So far the carpet has seen more pee than the potty. We’ll soldier on. TTYL.

    • Kelly K says:

      I may have won the bad Friday prize, but I think mopped up (literally) on Saturday with the first day of potty training followed by a stomach virus.

      The thought of both is nearly as terrifying as a visit to the dentist
      for me…

      As I typed this, I just got your tweet that you got it too.

      You won the Evil Weekend award. I’m sure my children will do something this week to get back into the competition.

      Nice to meet you too! Enjoy the tales of chaos. 🙂

  8. marinasleeps says:

    This was golden. It just the universe helping you with your blog material.

    • Kelly K says:

      Trust me, in the future, I will be more careful when cursing the writing muse.

      My children are getting more creative since the Days of Potty Training the Toddler have ended – which was a constant source of material.

      An aspect I am slightly terrified of….

  9. Pingback: On the First Day of Christmas, Dear Santa Gave to Me…. | Dances with Chaos

  10. Pingback: Junior Mr. Fix-It: Tacklerism Tuesday | Dances with Chaos

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