Did you ever have one of those days? Come to think of it, its probably been more like one of those years.

Last Wednesday the thought occurred to me that life was too closely imitating art and had become eerily similar to a popular television sitcom. The last name of the family also begins with a "B" and ends in a "Y". Except, I guess you could say I'm "Unmarried with Children".

Let's see where should I begin. The first inkling I had my plans were going awry was when my son called and reminded me he had ball practice at 6 p.m. Curve number one. A minor one but it meant I had to stop what I was working on and put on my taxi driver's cap and go play chauffeur for a while.

Curve number two began when my daughter called and said that since she had spent the night at her friend's this week, she really needed to return the favor. So besides being a chauffeur, I would have the pleasure of becoming a hotel concierge.

Are you with me so far? Good. Only juggling two or three roles at this point. A little stressful but nothing more than usual. I finished what I was doing, picked up my son at the ball field and ran to the grocery store for a few needed items.

Curve number three -- when I got home my daughter greeted me at the door with the news that someone had clogged the commode and that the bathroom was flooded. The good news was that she and her friend had already cleaned up the mess. But what did I want them to do with the 20 dripping, messy bath towels they'd used to mop up the water? The other bad news was that someone had left the package of bathroom tissue next to the commode, it was soaked through, and now there wasn't any in the house. Would I turn around, get back in the car and go buy some?

When I returned I was greeted at the door by my daughter telling me that not only had the commode overflowed again but now the bathtub was full of some really nasty looking stuff. I called the landlord and checked with the neighbors. Yep, they had the same problem -- there was a blockage in the sewer line and it would be an hour or so before a plumber could come.

Then World War III broke out. With the landlord on his way, I suddenly realized how messy the house was. Jumping into my Admiral Bligh mode I began issuing orders right and left. Hah! Instant mutiny. I was informed that it was late and hadn't had any supper. No food -- no work. Feeling like a wild animal trainer, I fed them and they performed.

The plumber and landlord eventually arrived and within minutes the clog was removed. The plumber told us that it would help clean out the sewer lines if we would let the water run in the tubs for a while.

Sure, no problem, right? Wrong! As I tried to push open the glass shower doors to get at the tap without stepping into the filthy tub, the doors stuck. I gave them a shove and instead of sliding over, they jumped the track. One went into the tub, the other conked me on the head. When the children finally stopped laughing, they gleefully ran to tell the landlord that Mom had broken something.

After a brief discussion, the landlord and I decided to throw out the shower doors and I would replace them with a shower curtain and rod. I've always hated them anyway -- they're hard to keep clean and I'm always stubbing my toes on the track getting into the shower in the mornings.

Okay, so the plumbing and shower door problem was solved. The only major events facing me was to finish removing the metal track around the tub and to literally boil the room clean. Thinking it would make the job easier I decided to finish removing the track first.

I needed a screwdriver for that little chore. I own three or four of the things and even have a nice tool chest where I try to keep them. But, as I've said before, I have children and nothing is where its supposed to be.

As I opened the silverware drawer thinking maybe that's where the screwdrivers had ended up, the drawer stuck. I gave a tug and the drawer came apart, pitching silverware in a wide swathe across my kitchen floor.

Do any of you wonder that at this point I just sat down in the middle of it all and laughed until I cried. I sat there, contemplating my life, giggling and sighing. I eventually tried to hammer the drawer back together. Every time I picked it up, it fell apart again.

I then did the only possible thing left to do -- I turned off the lights and went to bed. I finally boiled the bathroom out about 5:30 the next morning. I'm thinking of leaving the shower track up as a decorative item.

Psst! Does anyone know how to fix kitchen drawers? Call me!

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If you would like to drop the author a note about the article please email to deborah@ipa.net

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