Neither of these stories is a nailbiter, and neither is going to win a pulitzer prize. But maybe you'll enjoy.
Story 1: The Clogged Toilet
My sister's house is a hybrid technology home; meaning her data connections come from both AT&T (phone/internet) and Comcast (cable). Her web situation was desktop based, so she decided to upgrade to wireless and get a one stop shopping plan from AT&T. Its a nice setup if you're a techno-junkie, call your local cable operator for details. And for the record, I totally made up the term "hybrid technology" home.
The installation was scheduled for this past Friday, and was going to take somewhere between four and six hours, and although it wasn't the ideal way to spend a Friday, I didn't have much else going on. Of course, they said they'd be here between 8 and 10 AM, and of course the guy shows up at 9:50 to begin the job.
By 11:30 or so he was doing work on the first floor when I stopped by to ask if I could get him something to drink. His response was odd, something to the effect of, "Not yet, I've got to drill in here, then use the bathroom, and maybe after that." I showed him where the bathroom was and headed back outside to do some reading.
About ten minutes later I went in to the house and noticed the bathroom door was closed, but didn't think anything of it when I noticed he'd been in there for a while. I headed back to the porch out back, and he comes out with kind of a "did something wrong" look. He steps closer and asks, "Do y'all have a plunger around here?"
In my head I'm thinking "you've gotta be shitting me," but the guy is human and instead of pushing for details from him I head to the basemenet to dig out a plunger. As I'm heading back up the stairs I'm convinced I'm the king of these kinds of bizarre encounters. It legitimately felt like a Curb Your Enthusiasm episode, and after handing off the plunger I took a straight line back to the porch with the hopes he'd be a better plumber than I and figure out how to fix his mess.
He wrapped up his fix-it job in the bathroom, then proceeded with his regular job, and everything went smoothly for the rest of the day. As I thought about the situation some more, the poor guy was in a no-win situation and I have to commend him for being straight with me. If he says nothing, my sister (or me) walk in the bathroom to discover whatever mess he's created, and he's out of a job or punished if we let the AT&T folks know. His alternative is he has to acknowledge it happened, face whatever embarassment may come from it, and move on to his weekend. He played it well, and since I've had my fair share of bathroom "adventures" I wasn't going to give him a hard time about it. But needless to say I sanitized the heck out of the bathroom after he left.
Again, not exactly a cliffhanger story, but this is high drama in my life these days.
Story II: Dead Bunnies and Being an Adult
Late Wednesday night, I came home to notice a small bunny on the driveway, probably no more than five inches long. The little fella could very well have been a girl, but HE has one fewer keystrokes than SHE for the rest of the story...although I just spent about 20 seconds justifying the bunny's gender.
I got up close to the little guy and noticed his back legs were broken, or at least really deformed. At first glance I thought he may have been clipped by a car, but there was a nice size gash behind his legs. Nobody said Highland Park was all fun and games, there's a tough tag team of cats next door who have been known to hunt for a meal or two and leave surprises in the yard. They have not been questioned by the authorities for mauling the rabbit, but I'm watching them.
I let my sister know he was out there, and we decide to let him hang out there overnight to see what happens, even though we both knew he had no chance. Unless, of course, the bunny is on Medicare and eligible for total hip/knee replacement surgery. There was just no way I was pulling a Costanza and bringing the dude to a Vet Hospital to get fixed up and nature had to take its course. If you don't know the reference, this is the Youtube clip from the episode, the squirrel part is at the end about 6 minutes in and one of my favorite episodes of all time.
After waking up Thursday morning, we notice the little guy has crossed the driveway. In fact, his ears are flopping, he's eating, and seems to be hanging tough--just like the fairly tale version. I was encouraged by his progress, and even sent my sister an upbeat text message that he may make it after all. However, after returning home around 5 PM I found the little guy surrounded by flies and deader than a doorknob.
Fifteen years ago I would have called for my dad, and asked him to remove the body, but with no adults in sight I knew it was on my shoulders to give the little guy a proper burial. Being an adult sucks sometimes, and this was one of those times.
I headed to the garage in search of a contraption to get him from the driveway to the forest behind the park across the street and a shovel was my tool of choice. I did consider harpooning it with some kind of knife, but don't think that would have gone over well with the parents/kids across the street, and I wanted to avoid blood at all costs.
Picking the little guy up was tough; he was nudged against the grass and it was hard to get leverage, but I scooped him up and headed to the cemetary. As I passed through the park, two young boys and their parents looked at me like I was crazy, and I looked straight down trying to avoid eye contact with them at all costs. I got to a small trail in the forest, took a few steps and said, "good luck wherever you are" and tossed him near a bush.
After emerging from the forest, I noticed the parents and kids had left the park by that point, and I really can't blame them. If I saw a strange guy walking through a park with a dead rodent on a shovel in the middle of summer I think I'd do the same. But I was happy with the job I completed, slung the shovel over my shoulder and headed home.
As kids, my parents handled "icky" stuff like this all of the time, and made it seem so natural and easy for them. I seriously considered calling my dad at some point and offering to trade services if he'd get rid of the thing, but I'm glad I handled it on my own. Death is something we all deal with, and I don't do great with looking at or touching dead stuff, but life can't always be about doing what you like or avoiding the things you don't like. So while I don't think I'm a spiritual saint for dealing with it, I did feel a little more "adult" and I know that if I need to do it down the road I can handle it. I'd just prefer if some other adult handled the burial/body situation. Not fun stuff.
Here's the little guy when I thought he had a chance; RIP my man:
