Today somebody plugged up the toilet. Since no one was fessing up and since I was feeling extra noble (probably because I was wearing a collared shirt), I took it upon myself to make the bathroom accessible once more. I applied my best plunging techniques, but no repetition of the plunge-flush-slowlywatchitdrain-cycle had any effect. Exasperated by an unsuccessful ten minutes of dealing with crap, I turned to Dave for a solution. He had no greater plumbing expertise than myself, so we stood there and watched the slowly fill up for the upteenth time.
Then Dave said, "We could pray." So we layed our hands on the toilet and said something to the effect of: "Dear God. We'd really like our toilet to work. We all need to poop at some point and it is just a really big nuisance. It would be sweet if you could unplug our toilet for us."
I gave it one more plunge (because I still have doubt that God is weeding out of my life) and then gave it a flush. VIOLA!!! A beautiful, smooth, quick, swirly flush. Thank God for small and beautiful and convenient miracles. He loves us, even when that means dealing with our crap.
