Okay, to be fair, it was mostly my fault.
This story happened when I was living in Alaska, shortly after I got married. Alex and I were still in the honeymoon stage, we were just getting to know each other still, and I thought that absolutely nothing could ever go wrong in my life because I’d already survived shit creek in my teen years.
This particular night, it was a little balmy at -45 degrees, and I was tidying up the house. I had my scentsy warmer filled to the brim with cubes so my house smelled of lavender goodness. Since I had hardly any furniture at this time, mostly I was just vacuuming. This was actually before I had Luna or Sahara, so mostly the vacuuming was just getting the dust off of everything because we had nothing but gravel roads in rural North Pole.
I decided that the cubes had used all of their scents and instead of dumping the hot wax in the garbage like I was supposed to, I decide to be a true idiot and dump the hot wax into the toilet. It solidified immediately, making a huge chunk of cold wax in the toilet. Since I don’t want to stick my hands in the toilet, I decide to flush.
Now, for those of you who are not engineers, let me explain what happens next.
- The flush starts to act funny because the wax gets really cold in Alaskan piping.
- The toilet stops working
- The Empress Majestic Dodo (me) decides to keep flushing, which it can’t because the giant ball of wax is stuck in the piping.
So, obviously, the toilet begins to flood the bathroom.
And after a few minutes, it starts to flood the hallway. Then the bedroom. Then the living room.
Alex was at work until midnight and it was around 8:30 at night. I start to full blown panic. We didn’t have a plunger because we never thought we’d ever clog the toilet, so I just keep flushing, hoping that it will start to work again eventually. When the water is reaching the living room, I know I have to call Alex.
Me: Hey, honey, do you have to stay at work tonight? Can you quite possibly come home right fucking now?
Alex: No, it’s Red Flag right now, I’m stuck here until probably one in the morning. Why? What did you do?
Me: Did you know that you’re not supposed to flush hot wax down the toilet?
Alex is quiet for a few beats. I’m pretty sure he was banging his head against the wall, considering I heard a few thumps while I was waiting for him to respond.
Me: The entire apartment is kind of flooding right now.
Alex: Did you put towels down?
Me: I honestly didn’t even think of that. I’ll do that.
Alex: I’ll see if they’ll let me go home since you’re trying to ensure that we never get our security deposit back.
When we got married, we married our towel collection as well. He had a bunch of pretty, white towels and all of my towels were either a light tan or a dark burgundy. Since I’d had them for a couple of years, I figured the color wouldn’t bleed at all so I throw every towel we have on the floor to soak up the toilet water. The toilet eventually stopped flooding, but it still wouldn’t flush.
Alex was home about twenty minutes later, to which we put the towels in a garbage bag and head to Fairbanks to get a plunger. After the thirty minute drive to Wal Mart, we stop at the laundry room in our apartment complex to wash all of the towels.
Naturally, I am not my mom who is a wizard at laundry and do not think to separate the colors from the whites.
All of our towels turned pink.
My husband declared me the Majestic Empress Dodo. Never again, am I allowed to fix the toilet.
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