Monday, March 3, 2014

Small Miracles in the Hardware Store

Did I ever tell you how I met my plunger?

I know, right?  Not many people have memorable stories about how they "met" their plunger.  And yes, I am talking about the one that fixes uh...jams...in the toilet.  I think I told y'all what I did with that plunger here, but I never told you how we met.

So, one of the characteristics of a woman who lives on her own is that she has to fix/do things that men typically do.  Oh I know, all the women's lib groups say that women can do everything a man can do and I agree with that totally.  I just believe there are things that women shouldn't have to do.  Taking out the garbage and changing the oil in the car are two such things.  I think that women are beautiful, delicate flowers and shouldn't have to smell nor touch such nastiness.

Unfortunately these thing still have to get done and so I have to do them (although since Q has become of  chore age, taking out the garbage is so his.)  I put together an elliptical machine and then took it apart after a year and a half when I gave it away - near new condition too.  I fixed the vacuum cleaner when it stopped sucking.  I try to remember to get my oil changed on time, but don't actually do it myself.  

Experience has taught me that when your toilet is jammed up, wait a while and it'll sort itself out.  But this one was snug.  It was not going anywhere any time soon.  

After work, I stop off at the closest hardware store.  And this place is huge.  Huge.  And it smells like plastic, like I just walked into a Payless Shoes.  I start to feel dizzy and disoriented.  I'm almost starting to sweat, but like a true lady, I don't sweat, so...

I take a deep breath.

"God," I say. "I'm going to need your help.  How on earth am I going to find a plunger??"

Well, listen to this.  

First aisle I stroll down is a father with his young son.  The father is distracted, talking on his cell phone.  His son has made a mess...

...of plungers.

Probably about 10 plungers, strewn all down the aisle.  Different types, sizes, even colours, all lined up just for me.  

Who says that God doesn't have a sense of humor?  That he doesn't answer prayers?

Thank God for small miracles!

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