Free Flowing

For the past three weeks or so, my bathtub drain hasn't been flowing as it should. It's been stopped up. The water will go down, eventually, but it takes a few hours. Yeah, hours. Gross, I know. I hadn't mentioned it to B, because he feels bad enough about being gone as is, and I hadn't gotten around to asking Dad about it yet. When B got here on Thursday night after taking the Greyhound up here, of course the first thing he wanted to do was take a shower. And of course the first thing he noticed then was that the drain wasn't, well... draining. He mentioned it to Dad when they came over for a cookout on Saturday night, and Dad offered his assistance.

Now, I normally think that one's drains are one's own business, but when someone offers their expertise and I can barely plunge correctly, I'll take it.

Dad came by today and looked at the drain. He plunged for a good long while before sticking his finger down the drain. I shuddered.

Dad: Lots of hair down here.

Me: Yes, but that's not my fault. That's your fault. It didn't come from Mom's side.

Dad: (nods.)

After about five more minutes of expert plunging (I had no idea there was such a finesse to it!), Dad decided we might need to get the snake involved. (Luckily, my dad's the sort who has a snake.) As we talked about the snake, he monkeyed around with the stopper. Flipped it from the down position to the up. And unstopped the drain.

My only consolation is that Bruce didn't try that, either.