2. The quilt is named "Hep to Be Square." Grandma Pista, the quiltmaker, named it. I've not renamed it because I really like the word "hep."
3. Now that the clothes had dried in the washing machine, I sent them for another spin to hopefully erase the smell of laundry neglect (a smell I was currently wearing on a body-colored tank top and, probably, my Hanes Her Way).
4. I left the house and my dear Chuck, who had the day off of work.
5. Twenty minutes later I got a text message from Chuck. The laundry room floor was covered in sewage. "Call me ASAP," he said.
6. Impossible, I told him. I was just down there. Barefoot. It was totally fine.
7. But this is now. And now the laundry room floor is wet with sewage. He can see turds. The cats want to play in it.
8. I find the number for the guy who fixes these things.
9. Chuck makes the call, and in the meantime throws away a bunch of our clothes, moves the litter box to a different room, bleaches the floor until it's clean enough to make hamburger patties on while he waits.
10. The Fixer shows up in less than an hour. He was in the neighborhood. He repeatedly calls the guy who remodeled our house before we bought it "an asshole."
11. Chuck uses a crow bar to dismantle a homemade bench that was built to mask some unsightly pipes -- which are actually the sewer clean-out pipe the Fixer will need access to in order to blast the sewer line and ultimately keep Orin from developing an affinity for Olympic-level Feces Soccer.
12. The massive tree in our neighbor's yard has roots that are clogging our sewer system. We should plan on having the Fixer return every year and a half -- or the second we hear a gurgle within the walls -- for maintenance purposes.
13. If we ever plan on selling our house, we're going to have to get this sewer line situation straightened out, which will require tearing down the garage that the remodeler built. Which is ... whatever. It might be nice to have a garage that exits into our yard instead of the neighbor's yard.
14. Unrelated: It was discovered that an heirloom from my high school cross country years was being used as a kitty toilet and so it, too, was tossed. Goodbye, Steve Urkle sleeping bag from the dollar store. You were good for a whole lotta laughs.
15. An informal poll has revealed that this happens to everyone. Like, everyone. You might find craps in your shower, shrug. The only difference is how often the Fixer has to come mind your personal turd stew.