Warning: not for the squeamish.
Monday night and all day yesterday (and tonight and all day tomorrow) I have been / will be refitting a bathroom in a house recently bought by the ex-husband of Plumbing S. It's a much bigger job than I would take on by myself at this stage, but it came through J the plumber, who met the ex-husband of Plumbing S when he rodded out their drains one Christmas Eve. I think the ex-husband of Plumbing S would rather it was J the plumber doing the work (and based on experiences so far, so would I) but J the plumber doesn't work like that. He distributes, and he troubleshoots. Don't worry Jo, he said, you'll be fine.
He came over on Monday night to help me drain down the central heating system, and (literally) kicked out the bath and the WC while he was there. He left the basin and the radiator for me to remove, and I turned up by myself first thing yesterday feeling a bit nervous but ready for action.
I was balanced between two floor joists surveying the pipework and trying to decide what to do first, when I realised I really, really needed a poo. 'I'll just go to the...' Oh.
I did not know what to do. Poo in the garden and bury it (but he might dig it up, and I would always, always know it was there)? Drive home (not enough time)? Go in a bucket (only one bucket and it was already in use, and anyway *then* what would I do with it)? Knock on a neighbour's door (hello, you've never met me, but can I take a dump in your toilet Right Now)? What *is* the done thing in these situations? I really have no idea.
In the end I made a little nest of toilet paper where the toilet should be, and offered thanks to the gods for being well-practised at squatting. Then I carefully wrapped up my poo, which seemed twice as big as normal, but then I don't normally pick them up, put it in a carrier bag and put it in the car.
That wasn't such a good idea, as it was a hot day yesterday and later on I had to drive with my poo in the passenger stairwell all the way to the plumber's merchants and all the way back. When I returned I took it out of the car and put it down by the wheelie bin (but the wheelie bin was empty, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving it lurking in there, it would surely give itself away).
So when I finally left for the day I scooped up my poo for its final journey, and drove as fast as I dared. There was no one in when I got home, thank goodness, so I was able to dispatch it in short order and deposit its bag in my own wheelie bin.
There has to be a better way. Maybe I should get a litte tin?
joella
7 comments:
A litter tin.
That story made me piss myself, which considering my current form, is quite an achievement.
Thanks for sharing it with us.
Simon
BTW One of my employees is a plumber some of the time and he says you never take out the old 'til you're ready to put in the new - for just this reason.
Thank goodness for high fibre diets and solid motions, eh what?
S: yes, had it been entirely up to me I would have followed that sensible course of action. But a) I had someone there who was prepared to haul the pan out and carry it down the stairs for me, and I rarely turn those kinds of offers down, and b) I did not know at the time that the replacement WC the ex-husband of Plumbing S had ordered was, what's the term, 'not applicable' (ie won't bloody fit). I will definitely adapt a more cautious approach in future.
B: yes, indeed. If you have to put a poo in a bag, this was the poo to choose. I am not always so lucky. It's almost as if it knew.
As advised, I didn't read this post but came straight to the comments instead.
I've no idea what everybody's talking about.
Couldn't you just do the normal thing and hold it in?
L L LOL. I have similar tale but I'm not brave enough to broadcast it.Come & fit my cloakroom sink & I'll tell you.xxx
I always like to note where the nearest McDonalds is....just in case.
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