Just the title should send you running. It really should.
Yesterday afternoon there was still no working toilet. We were all still using the back porch. Even my mom who came to visit. She's such a trooper.
But then one of my girls and I didn't hafta just urinate. And it was like reliving our life in the Peterbilt.
As if shitting (pardon the launguage, but seriously I'm at the point where I'm allowed a few bad words) in a plastic bag isn't bad enough, hauling it outside is pretty mortifying, but finding that the dog has knocked that huge garbage can over and ravaged what you just put in there?
Well.
I sent Amber a goodbye forever text. I was ready to slit my own wrists.
But then Josh got our toilet hooked up and all is right in my world again.
And thank goodness he got it working when he did. I have a sick kiddo today who needs this thing.
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