The Norman Transcript
NORMAN — I think it’s good from time to time to humble yourself a bit. Bring yourself down to earth.
Sometimes we get a little high in the britches, I think, and at times, it’s good to roll up your sleeves and go through the muck you find in your bathroom sink’s drain pipe.
This outing wasn’t just for fun.
At first, we were on a search and rescue mission. I was bound we were going to find our lost treasure. If I’d had an Indiana Jones hat, I would have worn it. I was that confident we were going to be a success.
However, once the smell of hair, soap, slime and stuff I’m not sure even has an identity was pulled out of a drain pipe that looked all nice and clean on the outside, we called the search off.
This archeological dig of sorts all began earlier in the week when I decided to clean my wedding ring. I was being extra careful. But something you all should know about me is that I’m a klutz to the highest power, and pretty much if anything is going to get dropped, it’s going to be on my watch.
So, as you can imagine, the wedding ring took a hard tumble into the sink’s basin. At first, I was in a panic that the entire ring was going to go down the sink. Imagine my relief when I was proven wrong. Whew, I thought. Saved by the sink stopper.
But then I picked up the ring and noticed it looked a little different. A bit naked. With one diamond missing, my wedding ring went from beautiful to looking like a carved pumpkin in less than two seconds.
Cue the tears.
But I then dusted myself off and realized there are worse things that can happen to a girl. And I moved on. But, under the advisement of a friend, I had my husband search the sink’s drain. And yes, I’m still talking to that friend. I like how she withheld the information that what we would find in the sink was nothing that would sparkle.
At first, this rescue was fun. I got to be assistant to my husband, which basically included going to the garage to find a shorter screwdriver.
In the beginning, I had hope. But as soon as that black slime emerged from underneath our bathroom cabinet that houses our bandages and cotton swabs, well, at first I was ready to move; then I decided that diamond wasn’t as important as I thought.
But now I’ll never complain about having a plumber out to the house. Those guys, and gals, too, just don’t get paid enough to rummage around in our filthy drains and pipes. Yuck. And kudos to a plumber’s spouse. I can’t imagine what kind of dinner conversation they have every evening, or what they have to launder out of their plumber’s uniform.
I believe that every experience is a learning experience. From this little adventure, I learned that sometimes it’s best to let the professionals do what they do best. I’ll have that ring cleaned by someone other than a journalist next time, and I’ll never go diamond diving again.
If you notice the waters of Moore are a little extra sparkly, you’ll know why.