I'm in a bitterly foul mood. It's one of those cancerous states of mind where you suddenly feel like the entire world is hell-bent on destroying you completely.
It's not always clear what brings these moods to the surface. Tonight, however, it was absolutely Mr. Rooter. Mr. Roto-Rooter to be precise.
Let's back up a step (and in doing so, better illustrate my current mode of thinking) and talk about trees. Where the hell do trees get off sending roots through sewers? What is in it for them? I would think a nonstop deluge of urine and feces would be caustic enough to keep trees' grubby little feelers out of our pipes.
"Ugh," the tree ought to say, "...oh, my, that's gross. My bad." And with that, it would kindly retract himself and be on his way.
For you see, there is a ton of dirt in my yard. There is probably 20 metric tons of dirt in my yard (I have no clue, I made that up; suffice it to say: there's plenty). Go play in my dirt, trees. Go nuts.
That's not good enough for these trees. Notice, if you will, that I call them "these" trees and not "my" trees. That's because they're all happily lined up on the south side of my northerly neighbor's property, joyously giving them shade and a blissful quality of life. These givers-of-shade-to-other-people are directly responsible for the surprise arrival of pools of our own excrement on the laundry room floor. Thanks, trees.
But let's share the blame, shall we? How can they have made pipes in 1914 (assuming they're original to the house) that can't fend off tree roots? Didn't we (humans, I mean) pretty much nail down plumbing, like, 2,000 years ago? Surely tree roots should have been licked by now? Not so much.
Since we've become accustomed to our current quality of life - ie, not having fetidly festering filth in our basement - we called the pros. Two and a half hours older and $286 poorer, I still have no clear reason to think these roots won't wreak havoc again within the next 6 months. Say what you will about the price, it was almost worth it because I got to see the camera snake view of the pipes. This would have been much more fun if it wasn't for him to show me all the root balls that he couldn't get out.
Whatever. I'll stop here, because I could go on for ages. Anyway, it's Gelses vs. the World today. I can't complain; Jen just brought me ice cream, and she's great and the kids are great.
On another tangent: I've always meant, or thought I would eventually, reply to people who comment on the blog. Thank you if you comment, it's always fun to get feedback. So here are some brief replies to recent comments:
- Christy: we miss you too.
- Lori (aka, commenterus emeritus): thanks for liking the pictures. And I still love that you called me Kevin once.
- Kate J: it's seriously touching and fantastic to hear from other parents like you. Thank you for the post and the advice
- Jennifer (aka, the Lady Riposter): don't worry, the cat has gotten his fair share of bites in on the kids. Guinness bites really, wickedly hard (ask my family who've cat sat), and what's great is that it doesn't dissuade the girls in any way. Dogs make great pillows, too.
- Whoever wrote that bailiwick is a great word: absolutely. I'm shuffling that one into the deck.
- Holly: you may be right, I think Abby's already made some dance-like moves. Which is great, because dance-like is as good as I can get. Lily, meanwhile, dances like Elaine from Seinfeld.
- Everyone else who wrote during The Great Miscarriage Debacle of 2009 (Yeah, I'm still using humor to deal with that): your posts and sharing of similar experiences truly helped a lot, thank you.
- Whoever wrote that I look like someone hanging outside the Cozy Bar: thank you? I like the Cozy Bar, despite it's lack of any outright coziness. I do look so haggard in that photo...
- Ruben: loved your tornado story. Thanks for being another crazy person who ignored the sirens. Don't worry, thunder and lightning season is almost to a close.
Alright, that went back a while, so I think I've made a dent in comment reciprocation.
Day two hundred and twelve.
Riding Rowdy
Trees, if they're not breaking into pipes, they're aiming acorns at our heads!
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