More Caulk Talk!

The plumber we had out here recently left me quite dissatisfied, apart from the fact that he giggled at my dumb caulk joke. And as much as I appreciate a little dampness down below (c'mon, who doesn't?), it seems his anemic caulk job was apparently not enough to fix the leak in my basement.

So I had this great idea to greet the guy at the door in a robe and a martini glass - or better yet, two - and ask him why real life is never like Penthouse Letters.

Instead, I decided on wearing this shirt:



My logic, of course, was that if the man was gonna whip his caulk out, it would be really funny if I had a

(ahem)

Heart.

On.

Read it out loud if you didn't get it.

But as it turned out, the guy that showed up this time was a different guy than before, and, sadly, far less of a conversationalist. He ran the water in my bathtub and went downstairs and found nothing. Then he splashed the tile on the wall where the spout and the dial are, and - AHA! There's the problem.

There's not enough caulk surrounding my spout.

How many times have I heard that before? Ok, never.

Plumberman then proceeded to tell me that fixing the problem would be something that my handy husband could probably handle. I couldn't decide whether to go with "Well, actually, my husband's not into handling caulk, if I'm readin' ya right, but I'm sure he'd be flattered" or "Oh yes, my husband is QUITE talented with his caulk". So I just chuckled to myself and played it off like I was coughing. Damn straight my husband's caulk'll do the job!

R was delighted to hear that his caulk was more than enough to satisfy my dampness.

Later, as I was making beef stew - craving something meaty, I suppose - my adorable Pie walked into the kitchen... with his pants down. I knew he wanted me to act all shocked and freaked out, so instead I very calmly said,

Pie, please put yer Junk away.

Yes, I call it their Junk. I think it's hilarious, personally, to hear a little kid call his privates his Junk. I also think it would be funny to hear a little kid ask where his bitches were at, but perhaps that's a bit too edgy for school.

And Pie said,

Mom, it's called a Wiener. And YOU WILL RESPECT IT.