You-know-what rolls downhill, or NOT Santa scared the crap out of her!

Went to the doctor Christmas Eve. Bill was prescribed a nebulizer for breathing treatments due to bronchial inflammation and to stave off pneumonia.

We were assured it would be delivered before dark. It is the day after Christmas, and it still has not been delivered. He had albuterol inhalers, approved by doctor, which worked fine on his lungs, but not on his frustration.  

Then we received news a family member is in Intensive Care, and so is a friend's dad, but because we have upper respiratory issues we can't visit.

Christmas morning, I disinfected the house. We popped our meds and antibiotics and waited for the crowd to arrive. Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse...

I went to the basement to get the crock pot and saw a small puddle of liquid on the floor. Bill asked if I'd done a load of laundry.

"No, I think the cat's sick. He had a drippy nose (like us) yesterday. I'm checking him now. Poor kitty must have eaten something and thrown up phlegm because it was clear with no food in it."

Cat seemed fine, and didn't take too kindly to my rubbing his nose to see if he had a fever.

Bill came upstairs, flushed the toilet, and ran downstairs. The puddle began to grow. The sewer was backing up. ON CHRISTMAS DAY.

So the first thing we did was call...
Can you guess?

All of the guests who were on their way, and we announced, "Use the bathroom before you arrive."

THEN we called for a plumber. Thanks to son-in-law who is head of maintenance at City Museum, and has all kinds of contacts, we had a plumber and his side kick out right away.

They were both short and stocky, right jolly old elves, (reminiscent of the movie Home Alone characters) and I laughed when I saw/heard them in spite of myself. The white guy said in a gravelly voice, "Let's go to the basement."

The black guy said in a raspy tone, "OK Boss."

They decided to climb up on the roof to snake the sewer pipe from there instead of through the basement stack.

First family arrived. Seven year old little girl ran outside when she heard the racket on the roof. The black guy looked down and shouted, "Don't worry honey, I'm not Santa!"

Scared the pee out of her. She ran in and asked to use the bathroom. I said, "Don't flush." Which is the opposite of what her parents tell her.

After the plumbers had been paid off, and offered dinner (which they refused) she asked if she could use the bathroom again.

After she tended to her more serious business, she yelled, "Can I flush now?"

Then a frantic shout, "NANA, I need help with your toilet paper."

I ran to assist her, yanked the roll, but there were no tear perforations. Yanked again, and that roll kept rolling. I called Bill. He yanked, but that toilet paper, which looked like the lining of a disposable diaper, could not be torn.

Bill tugged, yanked, tried to rip with all his might, then yelled, "Take the entire roll off!"

I yelled, "If that plumber thinks we're using this paper because it's biodegradable or something, he's wrong! He had no right to replace our toilet tissue."

Meanwhile, Bill's daughter, the teacher, is in the living room laughing until she is breathless at the best prank ever! She was hoping to trick an adult. Our poor little girl must have thought she was in the nut ward.

That roll of fake toilet paper made its rounds yesterday and is probably still rolling around town.