So there I was, taking a wee on the loo. Just number one, mind you, on the number one toilet on the number one floor of the house. As I finish, I flush the toilet… but it doesn’t go down, it fills… and it fills… and fills… and, OH CRAP, I have to stop this thing. So, having wasted prime time, I cram myself down between the wall and the toilet so I can turn that twisty shut off valve. And it twists…and twists. It occurs to me that the person that decided that the twisty shut off valve should take 100 turns to completely close off wasn’t wedged between the wall and the toilet with dirty toilet water running down her arm. YUM! Because if that person was in my position, I’m pretty sure they would have used a 90 degree turn valve in that lovely wedge-worthy position. Quick, effective, and with a minimum (if any) dirty toilet water on your body.

So, after it’s finally (FINALLY!!!) off, I move the floor mat to absorb the water, as well as any towel I can find. As I am slopping up the floor, I am watching the toilet to see if there is any movement downward of the water still in the bowl. None. The clog, which obviously occurred prior to my wee-only visit, was complete. The previous occupant probably facilitated an incomplete flush, which allowed the waste to expand to the width of the opening… obviously. And I am the beneficiary of the incomplete flush. As the most used toilet in the house, perhaps this particular toilet must simply rebel sometimes. Anyway, I stand there staring at the offending toilet, waiting for some small break in the clog, but I wait in vain. It ain’t happening. In a stupor, I go to the kitchen and grab a large mixing bowl (don’t worry, the bowl is gone now) and attempt to empty the toilet a little because you can’t plunge it without a little space at the top of the waterline. Just putting the bowl into the water causes a little more to flow over the top of the toilet. Perfect. Since there is no solid waste in the toilet (it remains stubbornly in the pipes) I decide to dump the bowl in the sink (I have since cleaned the sink). The problem is, the blockage must be lower than where the sink combines with the toilet, so the water goes right back into the toilet bowl, filling it back up to the top. Perfect again.

Suddenly, I realize that I have no idea where the blockage is at. I run out of the bathroom yelling for anyone on the top floor to not use any water or toilets. NO WATER OR FLUSHING!!! Images of upstairs waste flowing out the top of the main floor toilet rush through my head. Focus Jo, focus!!! So, I decide to fill the mixing bowl to the top and try to plunge. What could happen? I could overflow the toilet. Been there done that! As I plunge I hear the sweet sound of suction. I do the happy dance as I dump the contents of the bowl back into the toilet and toss the sopping floor mat and towel into the bowl (as much as it could fit).

I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only person that this has happened to. A friend had it happen at a party at someone else’s house as he was executing a curtesy flush. Take a minute to picture it. You are still sitting on the toilet while executing a curtesy flush. So the toilet fills while he is blissfully unaware, until it is overflowing his own waste onto his underclothes, pants, and shoes, which are conveniently around his ankles. So the water was running out of the bathroom, while he tried to shut of the twisty shut off valve in the most inconvenient and naked circumstances. And since it was a half bath, with no linen closet, there were limited items to work with, and a lot of water and waste, as a courtesy flush, by definition, does not occur with just a wee. That was undoubtedly the most inconvenient of cleanups, as how could he even alert anyone of the problem at hand? And the first issue is that he wasn’t going to pull up his pants, so he needed something to maintain modesty. I am not divulging any names because that scenario is way too embarrassing. I know that somebody reading this knows the story. Anyway, the owner of the house got a new basement ceiling on the insurance company… not that they had wanted a new ceiling. That’s just how those things work. And the issue was eventually, awkwardly, resolved.

In fact, this toilet scenario happened to me one other time. I was at my brother’s house. My sister-in-law ran out to pick up the pizza, leaving me with seven kids (4 were hers, 3 mine). She no sooner left, than her son came out of the house, pulling on my sleeve, saying, “Aunt Joanne, Aunt Joanne” with no particular urgency. I’m holding my infant Tessa, while yelling, “stay out of the street” to another kid. I turn down to whichever kid it was (Dillon!) and say, “What?” He says, “the water is going everywhere.” WHAT!!! I run into the house, forgetting all about the kid playing in the street (don’t leave me with seven kids), and find water EVERYWHERE. It is flowing out of the toilet at a completely unbelievable pace. I put Tessa down somewhere (hopefully out of the mess), and kneel to turn off the twisty shut-off valve. Then I get Ashley to get EVERY towel in the house. I think I even commandeered a squeegee and used it to push water out the front door. I take some comfort in that it wasn’t my house… or my kid that caused it. But since I was the only adult, it was my problem for the time being. The culprit in that case was a decorative do-dad that was on the back of the toilet. One or another of the completely unsupervised kids inside the house (Dillon!) accidently, or not-so-accidently flushed it down the toilet.

Anyway, I maintain that we need to switch out all our shut-off valves to the 90 degree turn ones. And there should be no decorative do-dads on the backs of toilets. And all bathrooms should have adequate emergency towels for clean-up and modesty. And, toilets need to be stupid-proofed, because clearly, I need all the help I can get.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! May your cup, and not your toilet, overfloweth.