My mother called this morning, to tell me she had a leak in her bathroom.
“That’s perfectly normal, Mom. I’ve had two so far today.”
“Don’t be such a smart-ass, Michael. We have a broken pipe, and it’s creating problems for the people downstairs.”
“Bummer,” I said. “Did you call a plumber?”
“No, Michael. I called a librarian.”
“Really? And I’m the smart-ass?”
“Of course, I called a plumber. His name is Doug. He loves Dirty Jobs and wants to tell you hello.”
“Well, put him on,” I said.
“He just left. So, I’m telling you for him.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, tell him hello back if you ever see him again.”
“I’m sending you some pictures right now.”
“Pictures of what?”
“Pictures of Doug at work. And pictures of our broken pipes.”
“I’m not sure what to with that information, Mom.”
“There’s nothing to do, Michael. I just like to keep you informed.”
“Thank you.”
“I also thought you might be curious to see what kind of filth comes off of your parent’s bodies. I had no idea we were so disgusting.”
“Yeah, I’m looking at the pictures now. Very enlightening.”
“Doug also fixed our television. He’s an excellent plumber.”
“Very versatile,” I said.
“Indeed,” she replied. “Look, I can’t talk now, your father’s waiting for me in the pool hall.”
“Then why did you call me?”
“Because I wanted to tell you about Doug. He’s such a good plumber. He had his shirt tucked in and everything!”
“Alright. I’ll keep him in mind next time a have a leak in my bathroom.”
“You do that.”
“Think he’d mind if I share his photo on Facebook?”
“Probably not. But don’t share that disgusting pipe filled with our filth and dead skin. No one wants to see that…”