The Toilet Runneth Over

If you read this, Mom, sorry again for the unladylikeness of this post.


Brace yourselves. I have another bathroom adventure to share.

The main toilet in the downstairs bathroom had been running all day. It’s an OOOOLLLLDDDD toilet with a European-style “push button” flusher. (Honestly, this little old toilet was one of the main things that attracted me to the house we currently live in – it reminded me of Germany).

So after reading “How Toilets Work” on the Internet, I put on my Mrs. Fix-it hat and set to work. Hope was in bed, and Rhema was in the kitchen having a late night snack.

I took off the tank cover and inspected the guts of the toilet. Ew. I curiously lifted the floater ball thingy by the metal arm, thinking that action alone might solve my problem.

But I must have lifted the arm too high because the whole durn thing snapped off in my hand! Water sprayed everywhere, and I screamed (again). It was like someone was beaming me with a Super Soaker. Water was spraying everywhere, and I couldn’t stop it. Every time I tried to stop it, I would get sprayed in the face.

And I just had a real problem with getting sprayed in the face with toilet water. Was it not enough to have been doused with milk last week?

Rhema appeared and began squealing and dancing around on her toes in the bathroom. Woohoo, a full-blast water sprinkler in the house!

“No Rhema, noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!”

I managed to push her out of the bathroom (getting soaked in the process.) Then I closed the door and locked it. The risk of leaving her unattended for a few minutes while I tried to stop the water was a risk I was going to have to take.

I figured out that if I held my fingers over the metal thingamajig in the toilet, the water would stop spraying. But if I lifted my fingers – let the pressure off – even just a bit the water would spray. By this time, we already had a nice little flood going.

So I stood there with my fingers over the thingamajig for a good 15 minutes, eloquently pleading to the God of heaven and earth to give me a clue. “God,whatdoIdo. WhatdoIdo. WhatdoIdo. Idon’tknowwhattodo.”

I looked around to see if there was anything heavy within my reach that I could use to hold down the thingamajig. The box of wipes on the floor was not heavy enough.
Then I saw my cell phone on the bathroom counter.

Called Brandon. No. Answer.

Called my dad. Thank God I can call my dad. I had just called him a few days earlier to help me fix a broken bed. (Yes, Rhema decided to break her bed this week).

“Um Dddaaddy? How do I turn off the potty?” I was a tad hysterical.

“Sweetie, just turn the valve off at the base of the toilet,” he said calmy.


The first time I turned the valve the wrong way and got even more water. The second time I turned it the right way until the water finally shut off.

I thanked everybody – my dad, the Lord, the toilet – which is now “out of service” – for shutting off. How do you spell r-e-l-i-e-f?

Then I had a good laugh at the thought of Rhema dancing in the water. 

Because “a merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” (Prov. 17:22)


Picture Source-

14 thoughts on “The Toilet Runneth Over

  1. I’m sorry, but reading about your recent bathroom experiences has really made me lol! I, too, found out about the “valve at the base of the toilet” trick the hard way (i.e. in a state of panic while standing in the middle of a growing flood). So glad your dad was available!

  2. HAHAHA I am so sorry to laugh at your expense but this post was hysterical- mainly because I would’ve done the EXACT SAME thing!!!!!!!!!!

    I hope things start gettin better for y’all.

    I heard from Shanda that your hubby deployed. I’m lucky that my Coastie is only 10 hours away(for now)- but I have trouble dealing with him being gone- I can’t imagine being married, with children and him being off at war.

    She who waits also serves. Thank you for your service to our country 🙂

    In Christ,

  3. I’ll have to remember that valve on the toilet thing in case that ever happens here! As I was reading I was thinking “how is she going to stop the water?!!” Sorry – your recent bathroom adventures have made me laugh!

  4. All FOUR of my children were born with the instinct to flush large things down the toilet that should not be down the toilet. My husband is completely OCD, it has been years since he has even set foot in the children’s bathroom.

    In the beginning my Dad (blessed are the fathers of the world) would come over unscrew the toilet from the base and fish things out of the toilet “Christine, honey, you can’t flush hot wheels down the toilet” Or apples, or corn cobs, or rocks, or seashells, or you name it my Dad has fished it out. “I know Dad, really it wasn’t me”.

    In time though I watched my Dad close enough that I could do it myself. When I tired of his gentle lectures on what not to flush down the toilet (even though I promise I already knew a strawberry shortcake did not deserve a death by flushing) I started doing it on my own.

    I am so proud of myself. I can turn off the water, unscrew, haul to the front yard, snake, haul back inside (though I have dropped and cracked two toilets) reassemble, seal, and rescrew a flushing toilet. There was one summer I did this six times! It is amazing what we learn to do when we have no choice but to do it.

  5. Jeneil,

    Toilet seems to be a running theme in your life lately? One more incident with the toilet and I’d have to pray to the Lord, “What are you trying to teach me?”

    Sorry….just had to laugh.

  6. Pingback: Just Call Me Noah « Autism In a Word

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