Ode to a plumber

Ode to a plumber

Last night I sat, and wondered "oh dear Matt…
why can’t we just call a plumber?"
“We don’t need a plumber,” he said as he scratched his head,
I can surely fix this my self.
So I watched him plunge the shower, with all of his power,
as the sink down the hall spit up water.
Soon the shower was filled with grime and dirt, and of coarse that made my head start to hurt
but he kept working on and on.
Matt told me not to worry, for he was getting somewhere, surely.
However that did not help the anxiety I had.
Eight o’clock came, and the outcome was still the same
except I had two children in need of a bath (and dished to be done and laundry to be cleaned).
He stopped for a time, and said giving the girls a bath was fine.
Only when they let the water out, it came up in the shower (in the other bathroom)
I did what I do when I am stressed out, and started pacing and walking blankly about,
because that was not a good sign!
I was able to do dishes, and laundry of coarse, and I got to take a bath without much force.
But the shower was still a mess.
Matt put heavy duty Drano in it to clean the line, he said it was my hair that was mixed with the grime,
and really I wanted to hit him!
This morning we still had some problems with it, but it was not as bad I have to admit,
however it is still not 100%.

Oh dear Matt my loving mate, please call a plumber they work great.
And you will live happily ever after!

(please note that the auther will not really inflict violence, this is just a great way to vent with out causing major matrimony issues)