When I got home on Friday night I had a long list of things I wanted to do that evening. When I walked in the front door, the toilet from the downstairs washroom was sitting in several pieces strewn from the washroom into the surrounding hallway. There were also several buckets, tools, and towels lying about.
So much for my to-do list. I knew I'd be helping out with the toilet for the night.
Jack was out. Wendy told me about their day. They found out the toilet was leaking, dripping into the basement. (For the first time I was actually glad I was living upstairs instead of the basement.) Jack was out getting replacement parts. We needed a new wax ring to sit in between the flange and the floor. Wendy was watching toilet repair videos on the internet.
Robin was having some friends over that night for a sleepover. They planned on sleeping in the basement. We were also having a bunch of lunch guests on Sunday. This was a situation with no easy solution, with a promise of comedy.
When Jack got home, he and I put the new wax ring down, and reassembled the toilet. Jack went to the basement to watch the pipe as I poured water down the toilet, simulating a flush, to see if it would leak. It did. Big time. (We had buckets, and a plastic sheet downstairs to catch the leak.)
We realized the problem was that the flange was sitting too low in the floor. We needed a new wax ring, and possibly a flange extension. It was too late. Rona was closed.
We bought the parts we needed on Saturday, but didn't have time to fix the toilet. On Sunday night as I was on my way to bed, Jack installed the new parts, and reassembled the toilet. Wendy flushed as Jack watched the pipe in the basement for a leak.
Hallelujah! No leaks!
So our toilet was out of order for the whole weekend, so I've been holding it all in since Friday afternoon. If you'll excuse me, it's time for me to go.
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