That's right. I stuck my arm up the toilet again.
William stuck some wipes in there a week or so ago, and I thought I pulled them all out. Well, he must have put something else in there that I didn't see, and now it is clogged again.
And that's not the best part!
He got in there earlier today and was playing apperantly, because the whole floor was flooded, and it got into the closet that shares a wall with the boys' room, and soaked through to the carpet in their doorway. Yay!
Today wasn't the best day, I was a bit grumpy for some unknown reason. Mark made a totally harmless comment about cleaning, and I totally flipped and got really angry. Usually I end up cleaning when that happens. When I say clean, I mean throw stuff out of where it shouldn't be and hope it lands where it should. Then scrub and vacumm and dust and induce chemical asphyxiation until the energy and ticked-off-ness expends itself. That way no one gets hurt and something gets done. So today I chose to tackle the bathroom and toilet. Yep, I even stuck my hand in there again and couldn't feel anything. It was a long shot, but hey. Not wanting to give up, I actually pulled the toilet up and tipped it over. Nothing there either. The clog is somewhere in the middle. I gave up, left the toilet on it's side, and locked the door. Housing maintenance will get a call in the morning.
Still fuming and with plenty of energy left I tackled the my bathroom, also a disaster. That is now totally spotless, floor mopped, the whole thing bleached from top to bottom, glass all dusted, shelves cleaned, toilet scrubbed down, bobby pins picked up. It is so nice to have a clean bathroom, I don't usually let it get so bad. What is nice about cleaning bathrooms is that I am totally by myself. Nobody comes in and bothers me, Mark chose to go outside and pull weeds, which was smart. I sat in there and said a lot of stuff to myself, most of which would have been very hurtful if I had said it to him, and most of it was not even true or relevant. I know the stuff I railed about was ridiculous, but that's why I do it while cleaning, under my breath. Because sometimes I can't help what I say, and you can't take back words.
After the bathroom was done, I had worked my way back to normal and fairly decent. The kids got put in bed, I complimented Mark on the weed job he did for me, and he admired how clean and nice smelling the bathroom was. All is well, no harm done. This time. Except for the poor toilet resting on it's side, waiting patiently to put upright and used again.