Have I told you how much I hate plumbing?

If you've popped in from Soapnuts, you've probably heard me rant and rave on multiple occasions about how I absolutely hate to work on plumbing.

If you know me or have seen the wide screen photos, you know I'm a fairly substantial man particularly in the upper half. My wife complains that I have no butt to speak of and there is certainly no hips to help hold up my britches. I have spent most of my life trying to keep my pants hitched up while watching current youth (including my son) who have made it a fashion statement to have their boxers up above their waist and their pants down near the knees.

Well, perhaps I exaggerate just a little.

Anyway, it seems to me that with all the technological advances in this world that they could figure out how to make a faucet replacement a bit easier. My solution would be to call Mr. Riddle. He has done plumbing off and on for the past several years like the time son Josh at age 5 or so dropped a ham bone into the toilet that refused to come out. That is until Mr. Riddle worked his magic. Or the time granddaughter Ashlynn dropped a toy cell phone in and it got forever stuck in the bowl. We had to replace the bowl because even Mr. Riddle's magic couldn't dislodge the toy.

The one good thing that came out of that is that I asked him to upgrade us to a taller version which fits my body just perfectly. Unfortunately my wife who is of a smaller stature can sit on it with her legs swinging away.

Well I digress! Just so many memories in this aged brain like (back to the pants falling down) one of Jamie's earlier boyfriends who wore his pants so huge that he had to run sideways like a crab to keep them up. My dad saw him coming across the field one night and asked me when did "he begin wearing your pants?".

Anyway, I finally started on the honey do list that had "replace the kitchen faucet" at the top. Do you know how hard it is to have to squeeze my broad shoulders into that little opening under the kitchen sink? The faucets never come apart as easily as you would like. The old bolts are usually crusted and only a small stick of dynamite is going to get them loose. The bottom of the cabinet has a nice sharp edge that even my well padded ribs couldn't safeguard against. (Nancy is fairly adamant that I at least try to do it myself, "just think of all the money we could save if you could at least do it yourself!")

Then you have to reach up and around the P-trap and drainage piping to try to screw the nuts onto the posts in an area about three fingers wide. Not to mention that it is usually dark up there and we never seem to have a working flashlight around. I prefer to see what kind of spider is getting ready to munch on my knuckles.

Invariably I drop the bolts and the tools and knock aside the one working flashlight that we are fortunate was a Christmas gift to Nancy and the grandkids haven't found it to turn it on until the batteries no longer work.

So, finally, the water has been turned back on. Wonder of wonders is that there is no leaking whatsoever. Wow, I mean, Wow.

Here is the beautiful faucet chosen to grace our old sink:



I understand both bathroom faucets need to be replaced. I'm thinking that the plumber union I belong to now may agree to purchase the two needed faucets but we're definitely going to call Mr. Riddle to install them for us. He may be older then I am but he's much more wiry. And he knows how to install them properly the first time!