An underrated yet crucial test of blossoming adulthood

[remindmeofthe]

Sure, when you're all grown up and shit, it's important to pay your bills and stuff.

But what about the little things?

Today, for example, I faced a truly nasty clogged toilet. I will spare you the details except to mention that there was biological matter involved. And for the first time in my life, I could not quietly close the lid and leave it for a parental unit to find.

I had to fix that sucker all by myself.

And I did it. And I only had to call my daddy for help once.

I am so proud.

(And while I was talking to him, I jokingly explained my conspiracy theory about how releasing Embree and Bellhorn were clever schemes designed by Theo Epstein at least in part to sabotage the Yankees. He seems to have taken me seriously. Hee.)

Comments

[hoedogg.livejournal.com]

Ahh, nothing quite like one's first time unclogging a toilet. Thank goodness it is as easy as it looks. (Although some clogs can be more difficult than others.)

I like your theory. Even though I miss Bellhorn terribly, nothing I can say in his defense will change that batting average.

[comme-un-buddha.livejournal.com]

You could have called me... for some strange reason I seem to have been the official plunger-wielder of the Swardlick household for some years now. Why this is... I do not know.

GOOD JOB, PLUNGER-WAN!

[owllover711.livejournal.com]

*giggle*

'Tis true! Congrats on clearing that ugly yet necessary hurdle. :-D

For me it was when I finally figured out how to make a bed without supervision. Tucking in the sheets was the secret I never figured out...*blushes* God only knows why.

[remindmeofthe.livejournal.com]

*blinks* Dude, you make your bed? Without your mom telling you to six times and then glaring until you acquiesce out of sheer terror, muttering under your breath all the while about how it's YOUR bed and what does SHE care and blah teenage rebellion yadda? Amazing.

[owllover711.livejournal.com]

LOL! :-D

When I finally had my own room in my supersenior year of college I turned into a neat freak. For some reason having a made bed to come home to was very comforting. It still is. I don't do hospital corners or anything like that though. Mom never got too worked up about bedmaking in the first place; honestly, her tolerant attitude made me more inclined to self-sufficience than any amount of cajoling/lecturing/threats ever could have for some reason.

One thing I still hate is doing dishes. Won't do them unless you hold a gun to my head.