Who Flushed A Potato Down The Toilet?

This Monday is a holiday in Ontario. Family Day, an arbitrary holiday the government made up to get votes.

In all of the years it has been in effect I have never been able to take it off. Even worse? The first year the fake holiday was in effect, I was traumatized by the Asshats.

The fake holiday arrived and I went to work, resentful because it was only my department that couldn't afford the lost hours of work to take it off. I supplied young plants and cuttings to the greenhouse industry. In order to have a geranium to plant in your garden come May, greenhouses need those plants in February.

My staff of two and I worked. All damn day.

Then I went home to a clogged toilet. A clogged toilet with shit in it. I don't know about you but the first thing I need to do when I get home from anywhere is go pee.

So there I am with my legs crossed, plunging that mother effing toilet like there is no tomorrow. Only nothing is happening. That's about when I finally tune into the argument that serves as conversation between the Asshats.

Asshat #1: It's your fault.

Asshat #2: No it isn't.

Asshat #1: You're the one who flushed a potato down the toilet.

My Brain: Wait, what did I just hear?

Me: YOU FLUSHED A FUCKING POTATO DOWN THE TOILET!!!!

Yes, apparently they were horsing around throwing potatoes at each other. When one went in the unflushed toilet, rather than risk getting shit on themselves they flushed. No matter how big your biggest turd is, it will never be as big as a potato. Of course it clogged the toilet. 

At this point, I decide I've already got a mess on my hands anyhow so I peed. In the clogged toilet. The toilet that contained somebody else's shit. It's the first and hopefully last time I ever feel the need to hover in my own home.

After I peed, I told the Asshats that they created the problem and they had better figure out a way to get rid of the turds and toilet paper so I could fix the problem. Then I did what any sensible woman would do in my situation. I went in my bedroom, locked the door and stuck some earbuds in my ears and had myself a great big crying session.

To this day, I have no idea how they dealt with the turds and toilet paper. I don't want to know.

Then I borrowed a home plumber special from my neighbor. A snake - think 10 foot long boingy door stopper thing.

It did not work.

I have no other options left. I start soaking water and piss and probably poo particles out of the toilet using my Vileda twist mop. I took the tank off first, because all the brains in the world will never give me enough upper body strength to lift an entire toilet. Of course one of the bolts was rusted through and broke. Of course.

There's no turning back now so moving forward, I carefully carried the bowl of the toilet over to the bathtub. Once it was in the tub I used my handheld shower and straight hot water to get that sucker as clean as I could. Then I reached my hand up the toilet and grabbed the effing potato.

It had a perfect hole in it from the snake. Too bad the hole would have been a tight fit for my pinky.

My next problem is I don't have a wax seal. This is a necessary part of putting the toilet back together. Now many women would have called their plumber ex husband at this point. Me? I've always been blessed with more than my fair share of stubborn. I head to Walmart.

Walmart is always open right? I'm pretty sure they're open Good Friday, Easter Monday and Thanksgiving. Walmart isn't open. I guess when the government starts handing out fake holidays for votes, even Walmart feels the need to observe. I go home to the toilet still sitting in my bathtub.

Most of the old wax seal is still there, maybe I can still make it work. I don't know if you've ever seen a wax toilet seal but think ear wax formed into a donut shape and you've got a good mental image. I valiantly suppress my gag reflex and smoosh the ear wax back to almost new appearance and start reassembling the toilet.

Once the bowl was in place, I opened my first beer. Luckily, my ex-husband left all kinds of plumbing goodies in the shed so I manage to find some bolts to re-attach the tank. By the time the tank was back in place I was on my third beer.

This year I'm at a new job but I'm still not taking Family Day off. I took Saturday instead. Family day still makes me shudder.