Crisis!

I learned a new word today. Destapador. It means plunger. I learned this word through experience, which turns out to be a good thing because it isn't in the dictionary. It's not even in the online dictionary. That is why I was overjoyed when our toilet got clogged and water started backing up in our bathtub and sink. Had this not happened, I probably never would have learned the word destapador.

Of course it all happened right as Jeff was on his way out the door for work. I needed my sisters with me to fully understand my terror. You see, I have this secret (now not-so-secret) fear of talking on the phone and talking to people if I think they will be mad at me. I mention both because they both give me the same reaction in my gut. My sisters understand. I also have a habit of blowing things out of proportion. I was sure that if we told our landlady that our pipes were plugged, she would immediately evict us and it would cost us thousands of dollars to redo all of the plumbing in the whole house. So I fretted and paced, dumped drano down the pipes, fretted and paced some more. Finally after an embarrasingly long time, I went downstairs and confessed to the housekeeper (in broken spanish) that the water wasn't going down in our bathroom. She found me a destapador and I plunged the toilet. Kind of an anticlimactic end to a story, huh?