I show Keith the Plumber my dripping shower faucet, gesturing elegantly with my left hand. I feel like a Price Is Right girl. Keith, this job could be yours, IF THE PRICE IS RIGHT.
Keith touches the water. “It’s hot,” he says. “That’s not good.”
“Of course it’s not good,” I say, cheerily. “I would think there was something wrong with you if you told me it was good! We’re on the same page! Isn’t December excellent?”
“I can’t work on that kind of faucet,” says Keith.
“Sure you can!” I say.
Keith gives me a peculiar look. “Nope, that fixture is about forty years old. I’m not insured to work on that. It’s not scald-proof.”
I mull this over. “I’m almost forty. I’m not scald-proof either. But my doctor works on me! Ha! Ha ha!”
If I am officially a loon, I’m really going for it.
Keith smiles weakly. I deflate slightly.
“It’s bad, right?” I say.
Keith nods.
“How bad?”
He takes a step back. “I’d have to install a new scald-proof fixture.”
“How bad?”
“Six.”
“Hundred? Thousand?”
“Hundred.”
“Oh,” says I. “Six hundred. That’s funny! That’s very, very funny! Why don’t you go look at the downstairs leak, and I’ll think about this.”
Keith goes downstairs with my friend, who knows where the leak is in the basement. I have not been introduced to the basement leak, as people in my life have been kind and have not wanted to create any more havoc in my overtaxed brain.
I hear all sorts of discussion through the floorboards when I head downstairs, doing my I’m massively medicated and someone just asked for $600 because I’m forty, no, because my faucet is forty! hip wiggle.
Keith and my somber-looking friend come upstairs. “Oh ho!” I say. “It’s bad, right? Also bad?”
Keith makes his official estimate on the scary pink plumber paper. Much addition and no subtraction. He hands me the yellow copy of the scary pink plumber paper.
$1258.
One thousand two hundred and fifty-eight dollars.
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! I think we will bathe in the sewer and simply wrap scarves around the pipes downstairs! And buckets! Isn’t this what buckets are for? For putting under leaky things?
*****
That was my thought process.
We sent Keith a-packing—pleasantly, of course, as I have a habit of being pleasant in the most unpleasant situations, such as childbirth, funerals and plumbing estimates. I am delightful under duress, charming in crisis. Until people leave. Then I freak and muffle my head under pillows.
I figured I had some time to think it over.
HO HO HO HO HO!
The shower faucet is raining water and will not stop. It’s gotten so bad during the past few days, I have to close the bathroom door to sleep, because the sound makes me nuts. A stream of hot-water dollars going down the drain. EX-CELL-ENT!
Gets better!
This morning, I put my hand on hot water knob in the shower AND IT WAS HOT. The tiled wall around the faucet? Also hot.
I called the plumbing folks again.
“It’s a great day here at Plumbing Paradise! How can we help you?” said a woman.
This sort of caught me off-guard.
“Is it really a great day there?” I asked.
Her voice changed completely. “I have no idea,” she said grimly.
“Well, this should cheer you up. I need Keith to come,” I said. “My faucet is HOT TO THE TOUCH. The wall is HOT TO THE TOUCH. Water is POURING OUT and I can’t stop it.”
“Hm. Tuesday the 23rd? Can’t do sooner. We’ve had some emergencies.”
“Um, I’m a little worried I’m having an emergency. Can you ask Keith? It seems VERY WRONG that things are getting hot.”
“I’ll tell Keith.”
“I just want to be sure the WALL DOESN’T EXPLODE AND RAIN SCALDING WATER AND BROKEN TILE ALL OVER MY BABIES.”
“I’ll tell him. The 23rd?”
“Christmas Eve-Eve. Unless Keith thinks this is an emergency. Which, you know. It could be. Did I mention I have babies? And dogs? And there’s me? And we brush our teeth in the bathroom? Ho ho ho?”
“Got it.”
*****
In the Berkshires, it’s ridiculous trying to get a contractor of any type to come quickly. Christmas Eve-Eve is not bad, IF WE DON’T ALL DIE BEFORE THEN. Check back, dearies.
Keith, the job is yours, EVEN THOUGH THE PRICE IS WRONG, AND IS SURELY GOING TO GET WORSE.
Merry plumbin’ Christmas. May all your faucets be merry and scald-proof, and younger than forty. And we thought forty was just a tough age for women. Ho ho ho ho!
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You are wonderful people. You just plain knock me out with your words and kindness, over and over again. Bless you.
Plumbing issues, not fun! I hit the tip jar finally….been meanin’ to for a while! Your writing has been profoundly moving to me and I think of you often. Sending lots of love to you & your girls from this mom & her girls……
I think the thing is that the plumber can’t work on it if it doesn’t have a protection on it to prevent scalding because she has kids. He’s not afraid of being scalded. He isn’t insured to work on something that’s not scald proof, because if the kids got hurt, he could be lible. That’s all. Of course he’s going to shut off the water to work on it. At least I hope so
It is so heartwarming to see all the love here. Jenn, you deserve it!
Careful, DO NOT shut off the water TO the water heater. Depending on the type of heat you have, you’ll freeze yourself out of the house. You just need to shut off the hot water supply line to the shower. In some old houses there is only one shut off for all supply lines going to the same area of the house. It should be fairly easy to find by following the pipes either from the bathroom back to the water heater or the other way around. It will probably be the hottest pipe in the cellar.
As long as the water is either continually running from the shower head or is leaking out of the area that hot water handle is going into, it is most likely just a washer problem. If you can find a washer set for an old faucet, its an easy fix. The problem is usually finding the correct size washer or its a washerless faucet (like Delta) and then the whole faucet unit needs to be replaced. But stll, as long as there isn’t a leaking pipe or pipe joint, the worst case is you have to go into the cellar to turn the hot water on to take a shower and fix it when time and money allow.
It is my sincerest wish that the advice in these comments will allow you to take care of the plumbing problems without spending from the tip jar much at all.
This post appears to have inspired a lot of people to show their support for you, myself included. Your network of well-wishers may be larger than you know. Please never be reluctant to lean on us, even if we do exist only in the invisible far reaches of the anonymous Internet.
You know, Jenn, a while back, I was in my kitchen – a year ago? More? – trying to figure out how to safely mail you two trays of Jennie-O Turkey Bacon. I had a 2-for-1 coupon and your blog was on my mind. I couldn’t figure out how to do it. I tried everything. I thought about foil and dry ice and weather and packing snow from Chicago in a cooler. I thought about shipping it from a flower shop where a friend works because they ship perishables all the time. No dice. I remember feeling deeply frustrated at my inability to share the wealth. And I’m obviously not the only reader here who feels that pull to help lighten your load ever so slightly.
Thank you for providing us with a venue for pitching in. It would be so much harder for me to send you frozen turkey bacon packed in dry ice with the intention of you selling it for money with which to pay Keith. But if that’s what it took, I might’ve made sure it was done right this time.
My words never come out right, so — I hope my little bit helps relieve a little bit of the stress.
I wonder who it that has the job of making sure that we all stay just south of making it financially, because based on how many times we seem to nip at the border, something, someone, some pipe always swoops in and keeps us from crossing.
Oh, my. Not the kind of news you want to get!
Delurking to let you know that one more person is out there caring for you. I donated to the tip jar – not much, but I know that every bit counts.
Wishing you and yours love and comfort,
Nicole
You won’t believe it but Friday night OUR sinks backed up and not five minutes later as I ran around cussing and thinking of you being in the same situation my washing machine started making this horrible noise so I go and check it out the washer is BROKEN! I just couldn’t believe it. So I KNOW how you feel, but for me it worked out. My partner got a plumber who came Saturday and washing machine got here on Sunday! So I want to help you by donating to your TIP JAR. I’m also in the same boat , seems like a sinking boat right now, with Depression or whatever it is they will call it still trying to figure it all out with a Shrink at this point. So I feel for you and I cry with you! Hang in there you aren’t alone!
Good grief, Jenn. I’m so sorry this is happening. Your ability to keep your wit (and wits?) about it is remarkable. I’ve put a bit in the tip jar, too. Hang in there.
That comment about the turkey bacon was SO TOUCHING. That’s just the way I feel.
Tip jar finally, as with others, been meaning to for a while. Your writing lifts me up, even when you’re down. Merry Christmas to all.
It’s midnight, Christmas morning and my first gift (small, like all the rest!) goes to you. Thanks for your amazing talents and for being so generous with them. Like someone said above, here’s to a brave New Year!
Whew! Sorry I’m late… my invitation to the party got lost on the mail. All the snow out here on the Left Coast, and all that. Anyway, got dressed, went a few miles over the speed limit, and here I am — made it to The Tip Jar.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
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