It's all fun and games until it starts to smell like the thing it looks like.

Nothing was wrong with any of our plumbing until I called the darn plumber, and then the house like to fell apart.

That little leak in the downstairs bathroom. And then all of a sudden our shower drain backing up.

So today, in a fit of houseproud ambition, I unscrewed the shower drain cover, got the pliers and the trash can (PS - do not borrow our pliers), and set to work. I admit that I take a grody and perverse pleasure in emptying backed-up drains (toilets pointedly excluded). I mean, sure, it's gross, but talk about instant results!

So I plied out a few nasty tufts of miscellany, and then I grabbed something and pulled, and it was like "The Old Man and the Sea", and this thing and I were battling it out, and finally I proved victorious. I lifted out of the drain a mixture of items that, no kidding, looked like a drowned rat.

In fact, so much like a drowned rat that I cackled to myself and called to the husb, intending to hold it up for him and tell him I found a drowned rat in our shower drain.

And THAT is when the smell hit me.

And the smell filled up the whole bathroom. And I'm not squeamish, but I had to drop the prize specimen in the trash can before I could even wave it in the husb's face.

So the husb comes running in and I'm like, "Turn on the fan! Open the window!" and he makes a horrible face and does as asked, and then we both complain about the smell for a minute and I show him the rat in the trash can.

But the moment was ruined.

Alas.

(Winston totally dug the smell, though. He was Highly Intrigued.)