Hooray for plumbing

Fair warning: this post has everything to do with plumbing and its key uses.  Skip along if you don't want to hear about it.

For those of you familiar with Erik, you know that he likes to tinker.  A lot.  To give him his due, the man can fix anything, and I am grateful.

However, there are days when I would come home to find the bathtub residing unattached in the middle of the room and the water for the house turned off.  (Those were inevitably days when the girls would be in dire need of a cleaning, and we would have to make do with a pile of Wet Ones for a few hours.)  I was, shall we say, ticked off.

Yes, I used to think I occasionally had it rough.  Then came... the forward head.  (That would be the guest bathroom.)

Until last night, we were without a functioning toilet onboard.  That is a full week, my friends.  The nearest heads are about 100 feet down the dock - not so far, in the grand scheme of things, and they are delightfully clean.  But Indy is toilet training.  She is in that key phase when "I have to go," means, "I have to go RIGHT NOW!".  So, many times a day, I had to scoop up the kids, jump off the boat and pound down the dock like a madwoman, elbowing scandalized retirees aside, in hopes of making it RIGHT NOW.

Meanwhile, Erik had to take apart the whole bathroom and much of the nearby hallway floor (leading to the girls' cabin, naturally).  You may recall that we don't exactly have the room to skirt around each other here, so this lead to the odd tense exchange.

But oh, happy day!  It works!  My genius husband has built a toilet for the gods.  And did I mention it works?  It works.  No more sprinting down the dock in my pajamas!  The retirees will be so disappointed.