Topping the long list of things that I dislike doing, such as licking envelopes and cleaning behind the bathroom faucet, is anything to do with cleaning up poo. Especially when I am not quite sure whose poo is whose. Thanks to Millie, I got to come face-to-face, er, nose-to-nose with creeping, seeping, heaping piles of poo today. Sewer back-up.
For the first, maybe second time this whole year, I’m glad to be a renter. After a quick call to the landlord, and a man with a noisy, crusty, yet efficient looking machine came to my rescue. When I answered the door, he said, “You’re new here.” Not a question. Apparently he had a long-standing contract with my landlord almost exclusively for this property, almost exclusively for this very problem. A Zip! a Snap! and a Slurp! later, the poo was gone!
As my new hero left, he said kinda cryptically, “See you again soon.”
Oh Lord, please, I hope not.