Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Dosaster Part II

Part I

Dosaster: noun. A domestic disaster.

For those of you who have been with me for a while, you may remember the horrible $700 plumbing disaster. (For you newbies, or those that don't remember, click the link at the top of this post.) Well, we had to call the plumber again. Thankfully, it wasn't an issue of leaky pipes this time, just a clog that we couldn't fix ourselves (easily). We are all about DIY here, snaking pipes and all that jazz, but for this we needed either a professional or a professional (read, ghastly expensive) tool and professional know how. So, with water from the washing machine backing up into the kitchen sink, I called the dreaded plumber.

The plumber we used last time was very impressive, friendly, and with the exception of a small snafu not of his making, timely. Seemed like a good company to call again. Unfortunately, this time around it was not the same guy.

Not even kind of.

Loud, rude, obnoxious, and a bit angry, this plumber did not impress me. At all. It started off with him calling me to ask if he could come 2 hours earlier than his original time. Fine, no problem, I'm here anyway. About 10 minutes after his call, he shows up, and this is where it gets fun.

Point the first: He's a loud talker. I mean, practically yells when he talks, and I can't stand loud noises. But, not necessarily his fault, and I do my best to overlook it.

Point the second: I had been instructed by Husband to approve work of around $100. The estimate the plumber gave was $140 for the job, plus $50 for BioClean which he insisted that we needed if I didn't want to be calling him back in a few months. So, $190 to fix a clog. (On an itemized list from our last plumbing job, the job itself, excluding the service call fee, was $20.)

Point the third: Although the job was going to cost nearly double what we thought, that is hardly his fault. However, since it was more than we thought, I needed to discuss it with Husband first. I told him I was to spend $100, and since this was quite a bit more, I would have to talk to Husband and call him back. Now, here's the part where his company lost our business. The plumber got upset. He didn't like the idea of having to leave to come back. It had been my experience with this company that they give you an estimate, they let you think about it, and you call them back to approve the work. There are even separate parts of the forms for estimate and the actual work. Apparently he didn't want to do it that way. I was getting more than a little uncomfortable, so I told him I would call Husband now and see what I could do. Only, Husband didn't answer his phone, so I had no answer to give. This hardly amused Mr. Plumber. He was not about to just LEAVE.MY.HOUSE. He said he was going outside to call his boss to see what he should do.

Um, what? YOU SHOULD LEAVE, like I told you to. But whatever. I was getting nervous and agitated. Then Husband called to tell me to go ahead and have it done. So I approved the work and he started.

End of story? Hardly.

Point the fourth: Mr. Plumber told me to fill the washing machine. I have an HE front loader (that I hate), so there really is no way to just fill the washer. You have to run a cycle, and the water doesn't go in all at once. As a plumber, I thought he should get that. He didn't. He was a bit annoyed by it.

Point the fifth: He made a comment about how much money he thought Husband made. Awkward, at best.

Point the sixth: He made a comment that he thought Viking Toddler is small for his age. Actually, Viking Toddler is in the 90 percentile for height, meaning that he is taller than 90% of children his age. Mr. Plumber went on to tell me that his boys are huge and are varsity quarterbacks and whatnot, and his 15 year old is 290 pounds, and isn't that just fantastic? Well, unless the child in question is about 6'5", no, although I'm not saying he's not.

Normally, a comment about size doesn't bother me. I've heard many about how tall Viking Toddler is, to the point that some thought he was starting school when he was three-and-a-half. But with everything leading up to that point, I was less than pleased.

Point the seventh: *If* I ever use this company again, it will not be with this particular plumber. I will make sure of that.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Statements of Epicness Part...whatever this part is

Just today, I heard from my darling boys two gems.

Viking Toddler: "Nuts are icky. Pee nuts. It's their name. Pee nuts."


Philosopher Child: "I want to watch Star Trek. The one with Shreck."
Me: "You mean Spock?"
Philosopher Child: "Yeah, Spock."

Thursday, July 7, 2011

No, my name is MARTIN.

Wow, it's been a long month. Notice the lack of posts last month? Yep, there's a reason. Here it is.

The in-laws took Philosopher Child and Viking Toddler for 3 weeks out of state to their home. Awesome, right? I was so excited for the quiet. But, having never been without my kids for more than over night (and that was only one of them, not both), as we got closer to the time, I got anxious. Then I started getting panic attacks. In short, was sick to my stomach for much of that three weeks. Sucked.

But, they are home now. We flew out to get them and we all arrived back in our little but well loved house late last night.

But you know what's fun? Airport security. More specifically, going through airport security with children with imaginations. See, our kids have been watching Wild Kratts lately (warning, there's music when you open that link), and Viking Toddler has been telling everyone that his name is Martin, as in Martin Kratt. Hint, it's not. So, as we got to the entrance to security, a TSA agent was scrutinizing our licenses very, very close with a very suspicious eye. He looked at Philosopher Child and said, "Is your name [Philosopher Child]?" Philosopher Child dutifully nodded. The agent then looked at Viking Toddler and asked, "Is your name [Viking Toddler]?"

And then our dear, sweet Viking Toddler said, "No, my name is Martin." When I'm watching toys get removed from babies' hands and grandmothers patted down, this is not the time for that sort of humor. But, funny in hindsight.