An Over Flowed Toilet Creates a Flowing River in the Living Room

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June 24th, 2012

The soothing sound of the river as it works its way through the path it has woven over hundreds of years brings tranquility to my soul. I sit on the banks of the roaring water and take in nature at its best. I observe the clear water, so tempting to drink and watch the world beneath the surface play in the current of the flowing water.

I look beyond the water to the other side of the bank and watch the trees sway. The spray from the river below quenches its thirst as the water mist lays upon the greenery and glistens in the sunlight. The sun's rays gently land on the rocks that aren't under the refuge of the trees, shielding random areas. I bask in its glow, feeling the warmth on my skin while the breeze on my face keeps me calm.

My arms are outreached behind me. Stretched until the elbows are locked. My fingertips claw through the crisscrossing roots of nature's carpet as I weave my fingers through the entangled grass until I reach the cool of the soil. I push my head back, hanging it back until the center of my head is placed evenly between my shoulders.

My legs lay in the softness of the bed of grass. The blades surround my pants, swallowing the material until it is even with the top of my legs. The slight breeze caused the tips of the pieces of grass to dance on my skin. The peace is rushing over me like the cool water over the rocks in the river below.

I am meditating and taking in nature. Closing my weary eyes and enjoying a breath of fresh air.

"Chris!" Chris!". A voice shouts out to me.

Quickly, the river vanishes from my view as light rushes past my eyes. The whole scene is suddenly in reveres, passing me at the speed of light.

"What, huh, what's going on?" I wipe my face after dozing off on the couch.

"The toilets are backing up! The bathroom is flooding, and it is overflowing into the hallway!" my kid's nanny shouts.

I jump from the comfort of my seat. The soft cushions cradling my body slowly returned to its normal flat position. I hear the rush of the water from the open door area of my bathroom as the water runs out from the toilet and bathtub like a waterfall. The discovery of my flooded bathroom takes away any peace the sound of water can give me.

"What the hell happened?" Looking at my nanny, hoping for an answer as I slosh through the water in my hallway. She is stunned, not sure what to say.

I enter the bathroom and discover four inches of water on the floor. The higher it got, the more it spread; like a dam breaking, it quickly made its way out to the house. I immediately look at my boys, watching the horror unfold, smiling at the thrilling rapids escaping throughout the home.

"Here," handing the nanny a bunch of towels. "Save the wood floors. Build a damn with these towels. I'll get the shop vac." I quickly fixed the toilet handle that the kids accidentally locked on the child's baby seat, which made the opening of the toilet bowl smaller so they could sit down and go "potty." It was hooked on the side of the tank, and the handle was caught behind it.

Like a madman on a mission, I rush to the shed to grab the shop vacuum that will suck up the water. I ran to the backyard, and grabbed the vacuum, and ran back inside the house, quickly plugging in the power and using the suction hose to suck up all the water.

The joy of a river in my dreams quickly turned to a trail of sewer in my living room that only Ed Norton could love. I worked the vacuum hose soon like a white water rafting paddle. My boys are enamored with the vacuum that is sucking up the water; they move in for a closer look, not realizing the chaos that they caused. I look back at the other side of the hallway on the banks of the far bedroom and give a scowl. But my boys don't mind me. They are examining a vacuum that they never saw before actually suck up water. Please do not give them any future ideas with this shop vac, Lord.

After I purge all the water out to save this sinking ship, I flush the toilet to ensure it is okay. The water won't flush down. It rises to the brink of freedom edge of the basin. It is clogged by whatever a two- and four-year-old boy decides should be flushed.

The river flows from my bathroom, and it didn't take hundreds of years to find its flow. It took two boys and a daydreaming father to make the river Nile possible.

Just another adventure as the river settles in my living room, leaving me up a creek without a paddle.

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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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