February 24, 2009
We often don't appreciate our friends until they spin out of control and spontaneously combust a half hour before one of our children fills a poop-filled toilet bowl with toilet paper and flushes.
Every single towel in our house was needed to clean up the sewage spill.
"I need a new washing machine NOW!" I told my husband.
After cordoning off the toxic spill site, I went shopping at the only place open at midnight: Craigslist.
I responded to 15 posts from people living in several states along the Eastern Corridor. My emails were surprisingly coherent and calm, given the circumstances.
"I HAVEN'T TAKEN A SHOWER IN TWO DAYS AND EVERY TOWEL THAT I OWN IS COVERED IN POOP," I wrote in capital letters. "I NEED YOUR WASHING MACHINE WAY MORE THAN THE FRAT BOY/NEWLY-DIVORCED MALE THAT EMAILED YOU BEFORE ME. PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON A MOTHER OF FOUR."
It's been 9 hours since I sent the emails and I still haven't heard back from anyone yet.
I wonder why.