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Today I Was A Plumber

By Stan Grimes
May 15, 2005

Today I was a plumber. Occasionally, my lovely wife assigns me certain home repair assignments (whether I know anything about them or not). Today it was replacing the faucets in our upstairs bathroom. Easy you say? I believe you’re mistaken. Our home was built circa 1900. Not many homes built during that period had indoor plumbing. Hence, when plumbing became fashion, owners put water pipes in some very hard-to-get-at places. Our house fits that description.

I had to saw a hole in the back of the sink cabinet to get to the shut-off valves. After that, I tried to loosen the pipefittings. I couldn’t get my fingers near the things. I couldn't get my channel locks (adjustable pliers) near the things. What now? I crawled head first into the cabinet door (2 feet x 3 feet), flashlight in one hand and hacksaw in the other. I managed to cut the lines to the old faucets and pull them out. After six hours of hammering, yanking, and buying parts I had ruined, I managed to get the job finished. Now, I can barely walk. I have cramps in my hands, a bruise on my butt, and knuckles that look like raw hamburger.

Tomorrow I am an electrician. My wife wants me to hop on our ten-foot ladder and replace our overhead light in the dining room. What do I know about wiring a light? Not much. By Monday morning I will be in a wheelchair, but someone will have to push me (my hands you know).

I will try to take a very long time putting up the new light, because Sunday afternoon I am a chef. Why is it that men suddenly become chefs in the summertime? Buy a grill, put it together, get propane tank, and lo-and-behold you’re a cook. I have tried and tried to explain to my wife that I am not a cook just because we have a gas grill. It’s an exercise in futility. I am a chef.

Sometimes she tries to make me a mechanic. I draw a line in the sand for that one. I am not a mechanic. When we were married ten years ago, I said to her, “Honey, I am not a carpenter, a mechanic, or a plumber.” My teachers in high school told me I would never make it in a trade school, a college, or a hood ornament on a car. If they had no faith in me, why should my wife? She is determined, that’s why and I…I have taken two painkillers and I am heading for bed. Who knows what I will be when I wake up, maybe a chicken farmer.

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About the author Stan Grimes: My book "Squirrel Mountain Trilogy" is now on sale at http://Pulplessfiction.com

Visit: http://stansplace.4t.com You’ll be amazed at how much more lousy I can be.

Email: stan.grimes@verizon.net


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