Jared Diamond Books

My wife and daughter pity me. They’re both really handy, well put together women, which I’m proud of them for. But because they can do everything so perfectly and with such ease, they don’t see the need for me to do anything. For example, the toilet became clogged overnight and I offered to fix it. It was pretty obvious that it would take me longer than it would take any of them, including the plumber obviously, but I wanted to try anyway. I had the day off work so I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t be the person to deal with the blocked sewer. In the Melbourne area, our sewers are old, so I’m not surprised that ours broke down, or whatever happened to it.  What I am surprised about is how little faith my family has in me. Just because things take me a little longer doesn’t mean I can’t do them

I was determined to prove that to my wife and daughter. I spent all day today trying to fix it, and if I’m honest, I’m glad that my wife wasn’t home to witness it. I became increasingly frustrated with the blocked drain that I had in front of me. I may have even told my daughter to go away, which I feel bad about now that I’ve calmed down. I will apologise to her in the morning. I think part of being a good parent is admitting when you’re wrong. It teaches your child that people, even adults, make mistakes and that it’s important to own up to those mistakes.

Anyway, I digress. If you’re wondering what happened with the whole blocked drain/toilet ordeal, I hadn’t managed to unblock it by the time my wife got home from work. We ended up calling a drain plumber in the Melbourne CBD to come to our house after hours. The plumber fixed the toilet, obviously, but my dignity went down the drain as soon as he walked in the door. Pun, unfortunately, intended. 

‘What?!’ I called out to my wife, struggling to hear her over the sound of rushing water. ‘Vanessa, I can’t hear you!’

She took a tentative step into the bathroom, closer to me, the water coming up past her ankles as it erupted from all of the pipes.

‘I said,’ she screamed, close enough for me to make it out, ‘that I told you so!’

‘Not particularly helpful!’ I called back at her with a frown. She reached out and grabbed my arm for support, dragging herself to stand with me in the bathtub. Ironically, it was one of the only dry places in the entire room.

‘You and your idiot brother!’ she shook her head.

‘How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t fix it?’

‘I told you, there are plenty of professional drainage contracts available near Melbourne,’ she shook her head. ‘But noooo, he deserved another shot!’

‘He did,’ I protested. ‘He’s been back to school and got his plumbing certification and everything!’

‘I want to see that diploma!’ she screeched at me. I took an involuntary step backwards at the sight of her very, very angry eyes.

‘Look,’ I said, placing my hands on my hips in an attempt at maintaining the higher ground. ‘Mistakes were made.’

‘Choose your next words very carefully,’ she yell-whispered above the roar of the rapids. ‘Or I’m about to drown you in three inches of toilet water.’

‘Well,’ I gulped. ‘We sure aren’t the only people who need blocked drain repair in the Brighton area.’

‘Go on.’

‘So it stands to reason…’ my tongue ran dry for a moment, until I physically willed saliva back into my mouth, ‘that other people have had this same problem.’

‘This problem?’ she arched an eyebrow, waving a hand over our flooded bathroom, and rapidly flooding home. ‘This problem seems, what… precedented, to you?’

‘Of course,’ I nodded, feigning confidence. ‘So let’s get a professional out who’s fixed this exact problem before! No harm, no… honey?’

For the first time in my life, I physically heard the sound of somebody clenching their fists.