Up at the cabin waiting for a man. And not just any man, a man with great power of me: the plumber. His schedule is my schedule, and since our cabin is in the middle of the Wisconsin woods, often accessible only by Alaskan Malamutes, thats fair. The culprit this time: a leaky bathtub faucet. The good news: fixable! The bad: only if I dont mind scalding myself. This O-ring will stop the leak, he explained like I had any idea what he was saying, but itll also stop the cold water. Um, Im not a fan of second-degree burns. (Why must I be so demanding?) Okay. Do you have any Vaseline? I patted myself down. Uh, no. I just need something…here! He triumphantly held up his Burts Bees lip balm. Just something thatll hold it for a bit while we get plumbing term plumbing term blah-blah-blah. Wait! Id found an old chapstick. Dont use your own property. Use MY own property. Alas, it didnt work. The faucet still leaked like a teething baby. Nuts. Ill go back to the shop and see what I can find. At least those bees in your balm didnt die for nothing. For that I got The Look. I occasionally run into people who have no idea when Im kidding. Um, its not made of bees. Its made of stuff bees make. Whew! And when that happens, I usually just let them go on thinking Im an idiot. Its not like theyre wrong. Then my conscience is clear. And it is! Hey, anytime someone comes into the woods to clear my conscience and try NOT to scald me, its a good day.
Posted on: Wed, 17 Dec 2014 17:42:08 +0000