Those are the words that every mother loves to hear especially when you are chatting with your brother who you haven’t talked to in a couple of months because he has been…where was he again? Anyway, I heard those words and promptly forgot about them until 9 that night when the kids were supposed to be getting ready for bed.

“Mom, you forgot about the toilet.” says my daughter.

Ugh. That is right. I had a toilet problem. I was sure that she just knocked the chain of the flapper. It happens. Easy fix, right? No. What fun would that be?

So, I go up to take the lid off the toilet. Oh, wait. I can’t. There is this white cabinet that came with the house over the toilet. You know the ones I am talking about. You can buy them at any major box store. It is press board and you assemble it. Ok, so I just need to get that off the toilet.

First, I empty it of all its contents; plastic animals, sunscreen, an empty dixie cup dispenser, a candle holder (that is where that went), a big bottle of cat shampoo, and a deoderant. I put my hands on the bottom and lift. It moves a couple of inches and then I hit a snag. The mystery of why the previous owners left it for us has been solved (or so I thought at the time, more on that later). I would either have to take the thing apart or disconnect the water supply to the toilet. I didn’t feel like dealing with water, and I didn’t feel like taking the thing apart either. Down to the garage I went for a saw. I figured a good saw would do the trick. I brought the saw back upstairs and started to cut. Hmph. That wasn’t going to work unless I wanted to put a big dent in the wall. Freckle face was pretty excited about the saw, though. Too bad it wasn’t going to work. I moved on to plan B. Take apart the cabinet.

I just happened to have a screwdriver upstairs. (See, I knew there was a reason that I didn’t put stuff away.) There were 4 screws I would have to remove. I got started. I had to contort my arm into an unnatural posistion in order to unscrew the darn things. I mananged to unscrew 2 of them all the while saying “Don’t strip the screw” and “Righty tighty, lefty loosey” and “Man, someone really needs to clean the catbox”.  After the first 2 I was not going to do the other 2. Why? Well, for one my shoulder felt like it was going to fall off and two, I realized I didn’t have to take the thing apart after all.

The previous homeowners didn’t leave it because it was trapped there. It wasn’t trapped there. They just left it because it is a piece of junk. I was just going to have to lift the thing all the way over the toilet until the bottom support bar cleared the tank. Great! This is not so bad. How did I not notice this is the first place? Beats me. Anyway, so I put my hands under the cupboard and start lifting.

OH. MY. GOSH. This thing is heavy! I am half way! Half way! Keep going!

“Mom, are you all right?” My kids ask. I must have sounded distressed.

“Yes. I am fine.” Not really sure how I managed to get that out of my mouth.

“Is that thing heavy mom?”

Do they not hear me straining? “YES.” And with one big burst of energy I lift the dang thing over my head because that is how high I had to lift it to get it to clear the toilet. I just knew that was going to hurt in the morning. (And it kind of does)

The hard part is over. I lift the toilet lid of the the tank expecting to find a disconnected toilet handle. Nope. The handle is broken. It is lying at the bottom of the tank. She snapped the whole thing off.

“Sheesh, dear. You snapped the whole thing off.”

She giggles. “Sorry, I guess I don’t know my own strength.”


Well, at least it is an easy fix. I have fixed handles before. Show me a military wife that hasn’t fixed some type of toilet problem. You can’t? That is what I thought. And I got a lot of oohs and aahs because I flushed the toilet from the inside of the tank. Mom can do amazing things, I told them.

All I know is that stupid white cabinet is not going back over the toilet. Period. Amen. And all of that.

Oh, yeah, and I wanted to mention that I have Bach’s Invention No. 8 to half speed. I know it is only half speed, but I still can’t believe that it is my fingers that are playing the song. It is the coolest thing.