Tanked

I am writing this on what to you is now yesterday; I just didn’t want to write anything else on Jody’s birthday and, even though, she was the happiest little girl, not even humor. And especially, because it is toilet humor – not scatological, but ceramic.

My grandson lost his balance in the bathroom; he is autistic and has a severe weight problem related to his mental state. He fell against the toilet and broke the tank. He did not break the tank off the toilet; he broke the tank itself, just as if it were a cooking dish.

We got the main water switched off and then the more delicate valve to the tank adjusted; Cameron got on his cell phone at the main valve and I was at the tank valve on my phone. He was prepared to turn the water back on, listen to see if I yelled, “It’s not holding” and react accordingly.

We got things mopped up and because we have other toilets – all upstairs – I decided I could do a little research on this subject. And I have been; you would not expect it to be so confusing. A plumber will be here this morning and we shall see.