Fixing the Toilet: A Proud Homeowner's Story

So last week I found out my cousin will be staying with me one night next week.

Time to redecorate!

But seriously, I went out and bought a new toilet seat. Hubby's comment, when he saw how much it cost, was, "There's one born every minute..." However, this seat doesn't come crashing down. It closes, slowly and quietly. No more midnight slams, and no more broken bits on the toilet seat caused by impact.

That was the easy part. But then I picked up a replacement set for the innards of the toilet. See, our toilet needed "help" in flushing. You had to hold the handle down - the whole time, until you heard the water actually go glug glug glug down the drain. Otherwise it would stop mid-flush.

It was also a bone of contention between Boyfriend and me, because it was his position that 4 seconds was enough to hold the handle down.

I disagreed.

But the one thing we could both agree on was that you're not supposed to have to hold the handle down at all.

So, as I said, I proudly brought home a kit containing all new innards. Detecting a slight lack of enthusiasm on Boyfriend's part when I brought it home, I opened the package and proceeded to read the directions, figuring, heck, how hard could this be?

Flummoxed. Flabbergasted. Astounded.

It's blooming rocket science! There are hundreds of little parts! The instructions made me long for a set of Ikea instructions! Nothing resembled the diagram. Everything has to fit "just-so," half an inch below something and half an inch above something else.

There is no room for error!

My cries of dismay were heard calmly by Boyfriend, who peered over the top of his glasses at me and asked me why I was frustrating myself looking at all that.

So I took it on faith and put it all back in the box and waited for the day to come when Boyfriend would perform this miracle for me. Which was today.

I shivered in anticipation while Boyfriend walked to and fro around the house, picking up tools, towels, buckets, and what-not. I was asked to pee one last time, and the project began.

Now, let me point out that Boyfriend is a first-time homeowner who talks about having genetic memory of how to build things passed down to him from his father. Which sounds like rather shaky ground to begin a project on to me.

Okay, so maybe I lack a bit of confidence in him, but Boyfriend compounded this by his habit of talking to himself while working. I wasn't in the room with him, but I could hear him clearly.

"I wonder why that's still leaking?" in a puzzled tone, floated softly down the hallway.

A few minutes later I heard "Oops! That was close!" and I couldn't stand it any more.

"I'm going out!" I exclaimed as I sailed out the door to pick up new summer-weight blankets to put on the beds for our guests.

Well, I am pleased as punch and right proud to report that Boyfriend successfully managed the job!

Nothing broken, and no leaks.

And you can let go of the handle!

Yay!