Drano

I'm sure it must be hard for a man to be married to a woman who is right 90% of the time. Though I have no hard evidence to back up this number, I can comfortably say I'm right so often, it seems as if I'm right, 100% of the time. But nobody is right 100% percent of the time, hence the downgrade to 90%.

I used to think I was right all the time because I was just plain brilliant. Then I realized there's no way anyone could be that brilliant, so I must be some sort of psychic wonder.

But even the best psychics are only 80% accurate. I knew there had to be another explanation. I've come to the conclusion, I know of a lot of things because I ASK A LOT OF QUESTIONS.

I'm a brain picker. I love to know what people know, and let's face it, everyone is an expert in at least one or more topics.

And don't go thinking I'm one of those people who likes being right for the sake of someone else being wrong. I like being right because it makes my life easier. And I'm all for being wrong, if it means my life will be easier.

I'm lazy like that. No extra work please. In fact, I'm fine avoiding work all together, if anyone knows how, please leave your answer in the comment section.

And now we arrive at my point, Internet. Years ago, I told Hubby, "Whatever you do, DO NOT put potato peels down the garbage disposal. It will back up the plumbing, even if you have a bionic garbage disposal."

They probably make bionic garbage disposals, right? But they're really expensive, and only the wealthiest of people can afford them.

What he heard: She's not a plumber, so what does she know about plumbing? Nothing. My Mom and Sister put worse stuff down their garbage disposal all the time. I've never seen a backed up sink at their homes.

He may be right, I'm no plumber, but this expert advice was given to me BY A PLUMBER.

Jump to present time.

"The laundry sink is plugged again," I say.

"It could be anything a marble, a wad of paper, who knows," claims Hubby.

"Yeah, but I'm really good at checking pockets for stuff," I answer, but his comment was shrinking my already shriveled laundry self esteem.

Later that morning:

My Mom gets into the plumbing equation with, " you need to pour boiling water and oxyclean down the drain."

"I can't, the sink's full of water," I say glumly.

"You need to bail!" exclaims Mom.

Bailing sounds fun, until one actually does it. Then she recommended a turkey baster for the portion of water deemed unbailable. Another fun sounding remedy, until put into practice.

Anyways, I did what Mom said because the handyman was on vacay in a foreign country.

Internet, you are not going to believe what came out of the laundry drain. POTATO PEELS!!!!!! For a second I visualized one of the three boys, stuffing potato peels into their pant's pockets, then myself, washing said pants.

Suddenly, however, it hit me like a gallon of sewer water, the blockage was coming from the kitchen sink.

I tested my theory by turning on the garbage disposal and running the faucet. Sure enough the laundry sink backed up when I did this.

Do you know what that means, Internet? Me neither. But I do know Hubby is NEVER going to put potato peels down the sink, again.

Mom, the Plumber, however, knew what it meant.

"You need to clear the trap," she told Hubby.

He cleared the trap, but couldn't tell me what came out, "because it was too dark to see."

Thanks to Mom, the Plumber and Hubby, I can now wash again. And everyone knows how much I love washing. In fact, I will never say another bad word about it again. My words probably created the Plumbing Fiasco Karma, in the first place.

I'm also thinking they should change the name of DraNo to DraNow.