Showing posts with label Drama Dad's birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drama Dad's birthday. Show all posts

Happy Birthday Gramma!

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The word grandmother often makes people think of home cooking and fresh baked pie. For me, when I think of my Gramma (or Nanna to Drama Kid) I think not of pie, but of pie dough.

When I was young, we could take the train from Chicago to St. Louis and we visited our family often. There weren't too many little kids in her neighborhood so Gramma came up with a way to keep me occupied. She would have a ball of pie dough wrapped in plastic waiting for me in the fridge. I'd play with that dough for hours then put it back in the fridge until later.

By the time our visit was over, that dough would be gray-black with dirt, specks and carpet fiber and I'm sure it looked horrible in her fridge next to the leftovers. But it made me happy. Which is all my Gramma has ever wanted to do.

Thanks, Gramma for the pie dough and putting up with my whining over the Hydrox versus Oreos and Vienna Beef over Ball Park Franks. Thanks for making all my friends jealous with my birthday/back to school wardrobe. Thank you for making my favorite breakfast every time I ask. Thank you for doing all the laundry when you visit and letting Drama Kid walk on your back.

Thanks for all the belly laughs we've had over the years and for being such a great Nanna. I love you Gram. Happy Birthday!
(dough photo from here)

My Husband Got Shit For His Birthday

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

For the past several years, we seem to have been under a "when it rains, it pours" cloud that only seems to dump on us in November and December. The day before Drama Kid's first birthday the nanny we had at the time quit with no notice. A few days after that the owner of our apartment put it on the market giving us one month to move out or buy. Then Drama Dad totaled his truck. In the years since, Drama Dad has been laid off of two jobs, cars have needed major repairs and I lost my job. Happy Holidays!

This year, we thought we'd escaped the downpour and spoke too soon. Last Saturday we were deciding where to go for hubs' birthday dinner when the shit hit the fan. Literally. One of the downstairs toilets has been stopping up fairly often the past few weeks. I was on the computer and Drama Kid used the loo next door. I could tell by the sound that it was in danger of overflowing. I'm now an expert at overflow stoppage and was able to avoid any spills.

Drama Dad hauled out the plunger again and went to work. And then he said "we're going to need a plumber," and I could swear I heard our credit card commit suicide and plumbers all over the city mark up their "weekend emergency service" prices.

I went into the bathroom and saw this:

You can thank me later for not getting a closer shot. Know what's worse than a bathtub full of shit? Two bathtubs full of shit! Where is Mike Rowe when you need him?

And those baskets on the floor? The ones full of toiletries that used to fit in the master bathroom cabinets at our last apartment but not our house? Yep, they were in the tub. Hubs went to get the phonebook and I tried to stifle my gag reflex and breathe through my mouth.

Roto Rooter arrived, opened up the clean out drains and sent down a snake ($125). The snake made it far enough to relieve the pressure and allow the tubs to drain, but there was still a blockage. We agreed to the extra charge to have a camera sent in (condo colonoscopy) and fully expected them to remove broken toy parts or evidence of some of Drama Kid's mischief. But the diagnosis was worse: tree roots had broken through the pipe. The new estimate? $650. Happy Birthday honey!

After I regained consciousness I was all prepared to start returning the few Christmas presents I've bought and find a way to hock some jewelry when our neighbor came over and asked if we were having plumbing problems.
We got him up to speed on what Roto Rooter had said and done so far then went door to door to ask if anyone else was having problems too but everyone was out. We asked the Rooter man to hold off on anymore work until we called the HOA since the blockage was more than 50 feet from our house. Birthday dinner and Christmas are saved!

To make a long, shitty story short, the HOA is responsible for the repairs and they will reimburse us the $325 we spent. It took much scrubbing before I would even think about taking a shower. My hands smelled like bleach until yesterday which is totally preferable to the alternative!

What about you? Do crises seem to happen to you all at once? Have you ever had a bathtub full of poo?

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