Two years ago, we discovered that my much loved soaking tub was leaking into the bookcase downstairs in the living room. It had actually been doing that for a while, but on such an irregular basis we couldn't figure out where the water was coming from. Since the bottom of that bookcase is where we store our board games, and my oldest was in a boardgame phase, I opened that cabinet fairly regularly, and would find boardgame boxes sitting in water. It was the most bizarre thing. But then finally we linked it back to the tub in my master bath right above, and discovered that the overflow pipe wasn't connected to anything. NOT CONNECTED. So everytime I filled the tub too full and some would run out through the overflow valve, it would just soak in through the wall behind it, and end up in the bottom of my bookcase, soaking up boxes of Monopoly and CandyLand. (See older post with more bitching about my bathtub.)
So we had a plumber come look at it. Two years ago. And he said, yeah, I can't fix that. But you probably could! You guys are handy! Just do this and this and then put a clamp on it, and you're all good.
Liar McLiarpants that he was, it was not that simple. And we shouldn't have messed with it. But we did, and we broke it worse. Because we, you may already know, are not plumbers.
So we plugged it up and left it. For two years. I missed it dearly. I started taking baths in the kids bathtub, which is your standard not a master bath garden tub size. Not the same.
But recently, my husband started saying, you know, we need to fix that tub. And change out the rotting windows. And all the other stuff that normal people do as a matter of routine maintenance on a home, when the economy doesn't suck. So I had a couple of other plumber types come out and look out it. Nobody would touch it, because the crawl space below the tub to reach the pipe that was broken was so small, it would require a plumber who happens to be an elf. That isn't really something you can screen for, by the way, when calling plumbers. "I'm sorry to ask, but do you happen to be the size of a five year old child?"
But then! Last week I was leaving the church where I work, and a truck drove by. A truck that said Andy's Pipe Dream. At first I thought it was a Johnson County Library truck, have you seen those? But no, it was a real plumber truck. Catchy name, I thought. So I called him.
And yesterday, Andy and his buddy came out and fixed my bathtub, and put the decorative trim back on. And by the time I got home from a very long and exhausting day at work last night, my husband had drawn me a bath. In my bathtub. That I adore.
And I was happy.
Let's don't talk about the wood rotted windows just now, mkay?