Skinky, Stinky, Stinky

I had to have a plumber over today because there was this HUGE hole in the pipe under our kitchen sink. It was so large that I could actually put my finger through it. (Not that I wanted to.)

How could I have gone so long not knowing that there was this huge hole between the elbow joint and the garbage disposal? (At least that explains why I had so many fruit flies after I got back from Arizona.)

And the odd thing is that I would have not known about it. It was only when I was looking to grab the bottle of Sal Suds under the sink that I discovered that something was wrong.

I didn't grasp it right away.

I grabbed the bottle and noticed that the bottom was wet. Wet? Why would it be wet?

Then I looked under the sink and noticed that the basin in which I kept the Sal Suds had about 3 inches of water in it. Not just any water. But very stinky, gaggingly smelly water.

Greatly restraining the urge to gag, I pulled each sopping item out of the basin. Bottles. Jars. What have you.

There were even rubber gloves and a couple of sponges that had deteriorated. Can you imagine what it was like to reach in with naked hands and grab those things?

If there was a direct connection between my hands and my brain, I would have surely barfed.

But I didn't.

However, that doesn't mean that I did not experience my fair share of disgust and want to throw up. Believe me, I did. But I maintained great self restraint.

And the smell! Oh! The smell! For once there was something in the kitchen that stunk worse than the gigunda litter box underneath the parrot's cage.

It was Sunday. And there was no way in hell that I was going to pay premium price by calling the plumber on a Sunday. It wasn't an emergency like the time my pipes froze in the winter time on Super Bowl weekend.

So come first thing this morning, I gave Roger the plumber a call and left a message on his voice mail. (I would have been VERY surprised had he answered the phone himself.)

So many hours later, Roger called back and said that he would be at my house in 5 to 10 minutes.

What was interesting was that Roger did not even have to ask for my street address. That's the advantage of living in a small town and using a local guy.

(We knew Roger. In addition to his son having gone to the same school as Ariana, Roger was also the same plumber who came to our rescue when our pipes had burst in January.)

While waiting for Roger, I decided that it would be a good idea to clean out the litter box. Not because it stunk (not that you would noticed the smell over the standing water in the basin under the sink)~ because it did ~ but because it was rather full.

Roger came before I was finished with the cat box. And he was done just minutes after I finished. I was amazed how quickly it took for Roger to replace the rotted out fitting with a brand new brass fitting.

It took all of 15 minutes for Roger the plumber to take care of things. And it took much longer for me to bail the smelly water out from the basin under the sink.

I told him to send me the bill in the mail.

But at least now the kitchen doesn't stink any more.