It is a truth universally acknowledged...

...that getting the 24-hour flu at the same time your sewer line backs up is just. plain. fun.

I started feeling seriously nasty last night, about the same time that our laundry drain started spewing up all kinds of fun.  This meant that we couldn't flush the toilet or take showers last night.  We were able to wash our hands briefly or brush our teeth briefly, because it would drain a teeny little bit, but any large... transactions....needed to be....

taken outside.

Yeah.  I had to poop in my backyard.  And then clean it up.

Like you do with a dog.

The baggie turned inside-out...the whole nine yards.

Just when I think I have reached the limit of embarrassing situations that one person can achieve, more are added.

Try not to get too jealous of me.

And may I just say that this reinforces my absolute hatred of camping?  Going to the bathroom with grass touching all kinds of things down there while I precariously balance like a crab against a piece of wood (in this case, the railroad ties that surround my garden) is not okay with me.  Being unable to use running water is not okay with me.  Remaining unshowered is not okay with me.  Being unable to do dishes or laundry is not okay with me.

I think the best I can do as far as "camping" is staying in a cabin in the woods.  A cabin with running water, toilets, and laundry facilities.

Call me high-maintenance.  (Even though I'm seriously not.  Just when it comes to camping.  It's too much for my self-diagnosed OCD and Sensory Perception Disorder.  As I sit here typing, I feel like I have gunk under my nails, even though I just washed them, and it's driving me crazy.  Must. cut. nails. immediately.)

Oh, I had to barf in my backyard, too.  At like one in the morning.  Good times.

Ben went to Home Crap-o (inside joke between him and me) this morning and rented a rooter for our main line.  Eventually, the smell and the sound (See?  Sensory Perception Disorder) got to be too much for me, and Dylan and I stole over to my parents' house to shower.  It felt so luxurious.  They have soft water over there, dude.  They're living in the lap of luxury.

Parenthetically, Ben's mom and stepdad came down to visit a couple of weeks ago, and Greg was all, "Hey, do you have any kleenex?" I laughed and laughed.  "Oh, Greg," I said, "Kleenex is wayyyyy too expensive for us.  It's a luxury we can't afford."  And that's sad.  (Greg very kindly bought us two boxes, and I feel like freakin' Paris Hilton over here.  Kleenex.  In my house.  Available for usage.  Soft, good, uncrumbly, strong kleenex.  Made for the nose.  Amazing.)

The rooter worked this time, and Ben even remembered to set up a Hazmat-type barrier around it so that he didn't splash poop water all over our laundry room and our bedroom door this time. (For the poop water story, read here.)

We seriously, seriously need a new main line.  Ours is still the original one from 1945.  The massive trees in our backyard have roots which have punctured it.  Whenever Ben rooters our main line (approximately every three months or so, when it invariably backs up), he pulls out a little ecosystem - roots, soil, even some earthworms.  It costs about $5000 to replace your main line via a plumber, hence our current situation.  Ain't nobody around this house got $5000 to spare.

But Ben's friend says that his friend can help us do it, and Ben says he can borrow a back hoe thingey from his work to do it, and it will only cost us about $600 instead.  I overheard Ben talking to his dad on the phone about it this afternoon.

It's funny - I didn't know that Ben and his friend had even discussed this until I overheard him telling his dad.  It's like whenever he talks to his mom - I learn all kinds of interesting things about his job and his life that I wouldn't learn otherwise.  Isn't that weird?  Because Ben and I chit-chat all the time; whenever we're together, we're gabbing.  Bizarre.  I always thought I was a good communicator.  Maybe not?

Thanks to Heavenly Father, who seriously looks out for us, the rooter job did the trick (for now) so that we didn't have to pay more for a plumber to come over, and now we're happily doing dishes and laundry again.  And I'm feeling so much better tonight that I had taco salad and Belizean fry jacks along with everyone else.  All is right with the world.