The drain in our kitchen regurgitated last week.
Our drain isn't one for drama, but likes giving us it's share of surprises(It once had a colony of mushrooms thriving along it's rim, which had the cook in a fit of giggles). So when it regurgitated, it didn't go about doing so with much pomp. It just slowly oozed out some dubious-looking water all over the kitchen floor. For days together. It reduced several super absorbent-cloths to a dark grey, grimy pulp.
The drain in our kitchen doesn't lose too easily. And our ammunition consisted only of a bottle of bright green Drainex which gurgled happily and ineffectually down the drain, and a plunger.
For some reason, we didn't use the plunger. It was our cook, one dark night, who braved herself and grimly asked us to hand her the plunger. But heave and plunge as she might, the drain steadfastly oozed dubious-looking water all over the kitchen floor.
For some reason, we didn't call the plumber either.
Who, it turns out, quite obviously, is the drain's nemesis.
I could have sworn I saw it blanch and lose some of it's sheen when it heard the announcement of the plumber's arrival- a faint hiccuping of drops of water that lodges on to all plumber overalls. A faint hiccuping, that if you strain your ears to listen, has a tinge of pride to it.
Our drain has been behaving ever since.
You can tell that it's biding it's time and scheming though.
Our drain isn't one for drama, but likes giving us it's share of surprises(It once had a colony of mushrooms thriving along it's rim, which had the cook in a fit of giggles). So when it regurgitated, it didn't go about doing so with much pomp. It just slowly oozed out some dubious-looking water all over the kitchen floor. For days together. It reduced several super absorbent-cloths to a dark grey, grimy pulp.
The drain in our kitchen doesn't lose too easily. And our ammunition consisted only of a bottle of bright green Drainex which gurgled happily and ineffectually down the drain, and a plunger.
For some reason, we didn't use the plunger. It was our cook, one dark night, who braved herself and grimly asked us to hand her the plunger. But heave and plunge as she might, the drain steadfastly oozed dubious-looking water all over the kitchen floor.
For some reason, we didn't call the plumber either.
Who, it turns out, quite obviously, is the drain's nemesis.
I could have sworn I saw it blanch and lose some of it's sheen when it heard the announcement of the plumber's arrival- a faint hiccuping of drops of water that lodges on to all plumber overalls. A faint hiccuping, that if you strain your ears to listen, has a tinge of pride to it.
Our drain has been behaving ever since.
You can tell that it's biding it's time and scheming though.
