Plumbers, like lawyers, often get a bad rap. The problem is that people call them when something is terribly wrong and they are up to their knees in theoretical or literal sewage. When this happens, the plumber bails them out and charges them dearly for it. I say, God bless 'em. I didn't take the time to learn how to dig a sewer line so I figure I'll pay whatever the going rate is. That being said, I have had to absolute worst run of plumbers this summer.

I noticed our first problem in May. The toilet wasn't working well. We replaced the innards and I couldn't convince The Husband to let me replace the entire thing so we just tried to adapt the best that we could. Not fun. Then one day I noticed a leak under the house from the pipe that connected the toilet to the sewer line. Since this was certainly beyond my plumbing 101 abilities, I called Mudbug Plumbing. I had hired them several times in the past for a few thousand dollars worth of repairs and upgrades. They were always professional and came out immediately. This was not my experience this time. It took over two months and seven thousand dollars to get our toilet working again (oh and I finally did install a new one on my own. It works great, thanks for asking.) It's not the money. I mean, no one wants to replace their sewer line but it had to be done. Eighty years is a pretty good life span. What frustrated me was that Mudbug kept sending out a different plumber to take a look at the problem and none of them seemed to agree. One said it was the city's problem and two other estimates ran from $1900 to $9000. We couldn't get a straight answer. One particular member of their office staff was lousy and bordered on rude. Meanwhile, we had raw sewage seeping under our house. Finally, once the problem was repaired, I cut them a check and vowed never to do business with them again no matter how many free pens they gave me.
Then there's the plumber for the addition. He's so young that I don't mind it when he calls me ma'am. He's gangly and loud. The last time that he was here I asked him to use the back door. I know that it's not convenient but if the carpenters can haul their wood and tools back there, surely he can use the door for access to the house. Plus, I have four rooms worth of furniture crammed into the front two rooms of the shotgun and there is no getting through without whacking something. It was just today that a friend asked me if I minded having people in my house and I told her no, that as long as they entered through the back. The front two rooms were for me and The Baby; my sanctuary, if you will. I made this clear to the plumber on his last visit about three days ago.

So today, long limbed, adolescent plumber dude enters through the back door, yells "hello" loudly and walks all the way through the house and out the front door. Maybe he wanted to see if I was home -- I dunno. All I know is that The Baby was asleep and although loud banging will not wake her, the sound of my voice and any stomping next to the bed will. I hope that the plumber sees the sleeping baby and adheres to my back door only request. No such luck. He makes no less then four trips through the front door, each time knocking into a bookcase, narrowly avoiding a coffee table and banging pipes into the bed. Meanwhile, I am seething; terrified of Cranky Baby and wondering just how many rocks are rattling around in the guys head.

Finally, he stops at the door and says, "I'll be back soon."

To which I reply, "would you mind using the back door, especially while The Baby is asleep?"

"Yes ma'am."

Another frustration factor is that he is several days late in showing up at all and we can't close the walls until the plumbing is completed and inspected. Until we close the walls I will be plagued by flies. Flies that were probably first attracted to the open sewer line under my house for weeks on end. Damn flies. Damn plumbers.