"there's shit in the sink" (or why my night was nicht sehr gut)

These are words you never want to hear: “Maureen, there’s shit in the sink.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. There’s shit in the sink!”

And that’s when the night started going downhill.

After work, I fought the urge to nap, and washed our bedspread instead. As I was stuffing it in, I noticed some Kleenex in the utility sink. I thought it was weird but started the washer anyway. When the cycle finished, I went down to find the sink completely filled with this icky, bluish, Kleenex-y water. I thought it was simply a clog, poured in some drain cleaner and waited.

By the time Matt got home, the water had receded quite a bit, to reveal the worst possible scenario: the Kleenex was really toilet paper, and indeed, there was shit in the sink. Now, I draw the line at human waste. That’s when I play the girl card. I didn't just sit there; I did what I do best. I googled things like “waste coming up out of sink” and “sewer backup” to try to tell Matt what to do. It turns out that plumbing DIY sites aren’t that helpful. They all say in a lackadaisical fashion, just stick a bucket under the plug, open the plug, and fish stuff out. Sure, I could do that, but that involves seeing things I just don’t want to see.

So Matt plunged, and I was faucet girl. I ran upstairs to flush or run the sink for him so he could attempt to figure out where the problem was. I was thankful for my cushy role. At midnight we gave up. This morning, we were actually able to take showers like normal, but flushing was banned. I am going to cross my fingers that another bottle of drain cleaner will do the trick, but I think we’ll have to call in a pro.