On World Toilet Day, an ode to a broken one

My brother, Brian, a year-and-change my junior and equally inept when it comes to home repairs, wrote this “Ode to a Broken Toilet” (my title). I believe it’s worth posting here in honor of it being World Toilet Day.

By Brian McNamara

It’s harder than you think to fix a toilet.

First, if the landlady’s painting propped up behind the tank falls

in, forget about it. You may as well move out.

The first thing you try won’t work.

Your wife will be standing there; you’ll lift up the tank cover.

Right away you’ll see the problem.

First, all that brown isn’t poopy.

The water flows DOWN from the tank.

Pick up your tools and think logically about engineering.

The brown thing like a coat hanger

that connects to the other brown thing like a coat hanger

broke.

Your wife is standing there.

Potentially, this might be your finest moment.

No hurry.

Pliers.

Needle nose pliers.

Twist twist.

It’s surprising how much you can think

about in the time it takes for

a toilet to fill up again.

When you first met,

that problem she had with her bed;

you with your wrenches.

After a while you note an ongoing harmonic resemblance

to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and;

your wife will still be standing there.

Your wife will go make chicken salad.

You will get your reading glasses and note

two small metal rings holding up the two brown coat-hanger things.

Before when the lower coat-hanger thing slid down through

the two small metal rings you could turn your attention to the day to come and; even chat;

but now.

Tiny fender-benders.

You lift up the tank cover again.

It’s not like you’re an idiot.

Look at what they pay you at work.

The whole top of your tool box

lifts out and

you grab it like the big boys.

As it turns out the top brown coat-hanger thing can get

caught

right there on the tank cover but

if you get too clever

and try to watch it

it’s like watching elves with Parkinson’s.

Twist twist.

Your wife is done with the chicken salad.

Sometimes all it takes

is the right tools, a little bit of love, and a plumber.

I warned my brother that his his sister-in-law, my wife, may not take kindly to his assignment of roles in his little story, what with the fact that she is far more likely to be the one elbows-deep in the toilet tank in our household and far less likely to need the Yellow Pages. His risk. Happy Toilet Day.