Hasty celebration leads to wave of regret

There are certain spaces in my own home I rarely visit and some I actually dread because my time in those spots has nearly always been tied to some sort of catastrophe I’ve been driven to abate.

Cabinets under sinks seem to be a frequent trouble zone in the 100-year-old structure, and I’ve spent many a moment arched like an upside-down scorpion with my head in a puddle, staring disaster in the face. Burst pipes, dripping garbage disposals, hemorrhaging dishwasher drain lines — I’ve faced them all in the claustrophobic confines of a dark, dusty and oftentimes musty 3-by-3-foot box.

It was in willful and admittedly shameful avoidance I allowed our kitchen faucet to drip for months. The graceful swan’s neck of chrome, which had once freely swung between basins, was now frozen in place, and the handles allowing access to the inner workings (the source of the drip) were bonded solidly by a weld of corrosion. I knew the whole thing had to go, and I knew it wouldn’t go easily.

I was finally shamed into the repair when my daughter Charlotte struck at my deeply green sensibilities. During a visit to our place, she’d stopped mid-sentence, glanced over her shoulder at the sink and simply said, “Dad, I can’t believe YOU would let that faucet drip like that!”

And so it was with more than mild trepidation I cracked open the cabinet doors and faced my fate. Obstacle No. 1 was the garbage disposal I’d struggled to replace only months beforehand. Squarely in the center of the project area, the only logical approach would be to remove it first. The extraction went better than expected. (That’s the only time I can use that sentence in this essay.)

Emboldened by my success, I pressed on. And with the old faucet on the chopping block, I didn’t need to fear damaging it on its way out. Brute force was employed. Things got ugly. I ended up needing to replace supply lines, valves — the whole ball of wax. This necessitated the shutting off of water to the entire house for several hours while I made repeated trips to the store to acquire more and more plumbing hardware.

Finally, with all valves, hoses and various accoutrements in place and a brand-new stainless steel faucet arched elegantly above the basin, I cranked the whole-house water valve on in the basement and ran back up to the kitchen.

“No leaks!” I cheered audibly after carefully examining the piping. Now there were only three tests left. I pulled the hot-water handle, and hot water came out. I pulled the cold water handle, and cold water came out. Finally, I pulled the rinse hose from its dock and gave it a little squirt. Success!

It was at that moment, the very instant in which I was primed to claim success, a wave of water rushed from the bottom of the cabinet and onto my feet.

In my haste to bask in my own glory, I had forgotten just one tiny detail — the disconnected garbage disposal, which sat quietly watching from the corner. I had been testing my success by running water down the drain and straight onto the floor!

Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.