Maybe the third time will be the charm.
These are not the twinkling lights one likes to think about on her block. This is the third time they’ve been out there since Christmas. They’re not at our house; we’re fine. But somewhere up the block must be a neighbor who is afraid to flush.
Dearly Beloved and I, over the years, have trained our ears to listen for the sound of a faint gurgle in the shower drain. That’s the symptom we prefer to act upon. Symptom B, a less subtle sign, is an overflowing toilet.
The roots of the canopy of trees on our street are usually the problem. We put some kind of root stuff down our pipes occasionally and have had no problems for a long time (she said, crossing herself and knocking on wood.)
Still, it’s comforting to know that our city water and sewer department always responds quickly and efficiently to these sewer emergencies.
The whole scene brings to mind a poetic quotation from a Christmas classic movie:
Oh, the silent majesty of a winter’s morn… the clean, cool chill of the holiday air… and an asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer…
– Clark Griswold – Christmas Vacation
Taking care of any other sh- – in our lives is up to us. May your year be free of assholes in bathrobes.
Happy New Year.