“Mom, the toilet’s stopped up,” he said, his voice cracking.
Twenty minutes later, Kevin sat on the edge of the bathtub, defeated. The bathroom floor was a swamp. The cute duck plunger floated mournfully. And in the bowl, the Great Logjam remained, a monument to poor life choices. toilet stopped up with poop
Desperate, Kevin resorted to the internet. “How to unclog toilet with poop” he typed frantically. The results were judgmental. Dish soap. Hot water. A wire hanger. “Mom, the toilet’s stopped up,” he said, his
“With what?” she asked, already knowing. the toilet’s stopped up
He did. And as the humid July air mixed with the lavender-poopy breeze, Kevin made a silent vow. No more burritos. And from now on, he’d buy the good plunger.
Another pause, longer this time. “All of it.”
Nothing happened.