|At least, sometimes....|
And, yet, recently, my efforts have not been enough. Apparently, there are knots of hair somewhere farther down in that pipe that my fingers can't reach. The upshot being, we've all been showering with our ankles in a couple of inches of water for the past month or so, while my frugal self has struggled with the concept of having to pay a plumber 100 bucks to clear the drain.
|Three years, I waited...|
It arrived today. And, to my disappointment, it didn't seem to work. In fact, things got worse, to the point that the water wasn't draining at all after Susie's shower. Faced with the prospect of telling Larry that I had messed things up completely AND wasted $25 in the process, I grabbed that Cannon and applied it to the drain again. And again. And again.
"What's going on in there?" I heard Larry say from the hall.
"Nothing! Just cleaning the tub!" I shouted, as I threw all my weight behind that darn device and prayed to Flylady to give me a miracle. Somewhere around the fifth time, the magic happened. I heard the drain gurgle (oh, beautiful sound!) as that water slid swiftly, gracefully, to wherever it is that bathtub effluent goes.
I spent the rest of the evening singing "I am Plumber, hear me roar..." and waving my Clog Cannon at Larry, who did not appear to be at all impressed with my fix-it skills.
You know what? I think he's jealous.
[No one has paid me or given me free merchandise to write this blog post. I'm a Clog Cannon convert, is all.]
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