My roommate has a five-year-old daughter. She doesn't live with us here in the house, she lives over at her mother's place. But she has a room here, and visits quite often. She's a smart kid, and actually well behaved, so even though I'm not "down with kids" I don't mind her being around at all. However, kids will be kids and they have to be reminded not to do things occasionally, like for instance play in my bathroom.
So yesterday afternoon when she was here and I went to the bathroom to get ready for work and the floor was soaking wet with tiny footprints all over the rugs, I figured I knew who the culprit was. So I asked my roommate Jonathan to remind the young-un to stay out of there.
Well, I came home at 4 in the morning and there was a note on the door saying a water pipe under the house had ruptured and that's why the floor was wet (it's an older house, and we've done several repairs in the brief time I've been here). No problemo--the plumber was coming first thing in the morning.
I woke up around noon, as I normally do after working all night, and had to use the facilities. Pretty badly, too. Well, I went to the bathroom and there was no toilet. Just a hole in the floor--Third World Style. I pondered for a minute as to what I should do...there was a sink, a tub, or my roommate's bathroom. I took the high road and tried to use the roommie's facilities. No dice. His door was locked and he wasn't home. Just then the plumber wandered in carrying my new throne, saying that the toilet was causing the leak and had to be replaced. No problem, but that didn't solve my immediate crisis. He set about installing it, so I just went out in the back yard and peed by the shed. Of course the dog joined me, and we had a bonding moment.
I went back in the house and just holed up in my bedroom all afternoon--I surfed the web, did a bit of laundry, watch some tv, just killing a bit of time before going back to work again.
By the time I need to take a shower, the bathroom was back in full working order with a dry floor. Nice. So I took my shower, shaved, and got dressed.
I left the house at 7:15, like I normally do, and as soon as I walked outside I was a bit shocked at what was sitting there in the front yard, next to the porch. Yep, the old dirty toilet. Just left there on the lawn, like a planter with no flowers. I stood there for a minute in disbelief, wondering why they didn't put it in the backyard, or the garage, or at least on the side of the house. Nope, they just carried it outside and dropped it, apparently. Very nice. Of course while I'm standing there, my brand new neighbors drove up and pulled in. I'm sure they were pleased.
It doesn't help that my dirty old ghetto sled car with Tennessee plates sits in the driveway, doing it's part to beautify the neighborhood, or the fact that my roommate has left plastic lawn furniture and a large multi-colored plastic play fort out in the front yard for the past couple of weeks, either. So yeah, we're the ones bringing down the property values on our street...
If the landlord doesn't take the thing away tomorrow, I swear I'm going to the nursery and getting a small palm tree to plant in the bowl, and I'm gonna set it up right by the sidewalk. And if it weren't so much work, I'd take the tires off my car and leave it up on blocks every night, too...