A Little Play In Three Acts

Scene I - Friday morning, our bedroom, around 6 am. I’m sound asleep. E is supposed to be getting ready for work. The three dogs are trying to snooze with me and the cat is milling about.

E: Babe, wake up.
Me: Uh? Wha?
E: Have you seen the plunger?
Me: Uh? Wha? No. Bathroom?
E: No. I’ve checked both bathrooms and I can’t find it. The toilet is stopped up and I really need it.
Me: I don’t know.
E: You sure?
Me: No.


Scene II – Our bedroom, an undetermined amount of minutes later. The dogs and I are back in our sound sleep.

E: Babe, wake up.
Me: Uh? Wha?
E: I fixed the toilet.
Me: Uh? Wha? Oh, good.
E: But I never found the plunger. We’ll probably have to go by Wal Mart and get a new one because the plunger is lost.
Me: Uh? K.


Scene III – Our bedroom at about 6:45 am. I’m awake now and remembering the previous conversations. E has gone to work. None of this conversation is spoken aloud but rather all happens in my head or maybe it was spoken aloud to the dogs because they are good listeners.

Me: How the hell do you lose a plunger???
I mean, how many places in a house do you have use for a plunger anyway?
He had it last. I don’t do plunger related things if I can get away with it.
Did he take it outside? What would need to be plunged outside? The pool?
Why would you plunge a pool? How would you plunge a pool?
Oh man, you know how he misplaces stuff sometimes. Is it in the freezer?
I cannot even make myself look there for a plunger.
Oh, and how did he fix the toilet without it?
Ewwww! I don’t really want to know that.
Well, since I’ve inherited a good bit of my mother’s neuroses, I might as well get started looking for it because I know I won’t leave the house until I find it this morning.
Crap.

This little play ends with me walking into our bathroom, where the cat loves to walk around and around the toilet (don’t ask because he’s 16 years old and I have no idea why and he won’t tell me). Turns out the cat had pushed the plunger back so that it was all the way behind the toilet where it couldn’t be seen unless you actually bent your head a bit more than usual to look for it. Man, I hope when it’s time, that’s not where the cat chooses to die. We’ll never find him.

Time it took to find it – approximately 15 seconds. Method of finding it – craning my neck a little farther than normal. Being able to blog about it – priceless.