On Saturday morning I slept in an hour longer, was feeling happy and rested and walked into my kitchen to get a cup of coffee that my coffee maker had so politely made because of the miracle of a timer. As I stepped in front of the pot to grab it my sock covered feet absorbed a small lake of water on the kitchen floor. There was that sinking feeling; my morning is ruined, my pocketbook is ruined, my nerves are ruined and my plans are ruined.
I called the plumber and he agreed that for a small weekend additional fee he would come over in 2 hours. I would do my shopping on Sunday and skip church. I don’t actually go to church on Sunday but I was feeling like a victim so that felt right.
He arrived and looked like the picture perfect stereotypical plumber. I hate stereotypes and pigeon-holing people. He was jolly, hefty and his pants were about 3 inched too low on his waist which disqualified me from being in the room while he was crouched under the sink. He never stopped talking. He said he was depressed because his career had gone down the toilet. He was ready to retire because he was flushed with success. When he was done he twirled around and said he knew a little tap. I responded that being on Dancing with the Stars might just be a pipe dream. I felt pretty good about that one.
$249.00 later and all was back to normal. I decided to make dinner. It was fitting for a day like today: potato leek soup. I decided I wouldn’t put anything into the collection basket on Sunday. I was grateful he had cheered me up and gotten me out of my “ruined” state. I’ll use that plumber again.
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