A Hairy Situation

The list of things that gross me out is long and, for the most part, not particularly original:

I don't like bugs (or, really, most creatures outside the mammal class); the smell and feel of raw chicken and-- shudder-- the "juice" inside the package makes me seriously consider becoming a vegan; I support corporal punishment for people who spit or blow snot rockets on the street; I'm gagging just from having typed "snot rockets" (all the words related to mucus are on my list); I'm not the one to go to if you need help baiting your fish hook; newspaper ink on my fingers sets my teeth on edge; and on and on. You get the idea.

My husband, on the other hand, is less easily shaken. Or he is better at hiding it. There are only a couple of things that really make him shudder: slimy things (like lotion, conditioner, or Carl Paladino) and cleaning out the kitchen basket strainer/stopper.

Unfortunately for my husband, he married the human equivalent of a golden retriever. I have crazy hair. And lots of it. And I'm a shedder. I could never be a criminal because I can't go anywhere without leaving behind a curly strand full of DNA. Sometimes I'll stop to say hello to someone and halfway through our conversation I'll notice that one of my hairs has somehow made it on to their coat. It's insane (and has, in all likelihood, earned me a spot on someone else's gross out list).

In the shower I use a hair catcher, which always seemed to do it's job. But recently I started hearing the tell-tale gurglings of a clogged drain. I tried Liquid Plumber but it didn't help. As time went on the drain got slower and I became concerned that there might be a real Problem (not with a clog but with the pipe itself-- it wouldn't be the first time our house had a hidden surprise for us).

Last night, out of his workroom, my husband produced a drain snake. (Who knew we had one?) And he got to work. What came out of that drain was like my husband's own personal Perfect Storm. A real horror, at once purely vile and purely captivating (especially for those of us-- me!-- who, during the months and months of nursing, derived great personal satisfaction from the removal of baby ear wax and baby boogers).

And this morning, the gurgle was gone. What a guy!