Crap. Quite Literally.

We live in a nearly 40 year old house. We've lived there for almost 13 years and it seems like we've pretty well rebuilt the thing by now. We have installed a new furnace, air conditioner and water heater, fenced the yard and ran an entirely new sprinkling system, and remodeled the family room, kitchen, 2 bedrooms, the master bedroom and two bathrooms.

The one thing we have never had to deal with is the septic tank.

Until last night.

Layne thought one of the kids had flushed socks down the toilet. Again. (Don't ask.) I reminded him that our kids are old enough to know better. He reminded me that they are still morons sometimes.

It's unfortunately true.

However, when the 24 hour Rotor Rooter guy came out at 10:00 last night, he told us that our problem is not with empty brained kids-- it was with a full septic tank.

(Insert your favorite "full of crap" joke here.)

I am absolutely disgusted by this concept. As far as this topic is concerned, I want to flush the toilet, run the washing machine or turn on the food disposal and NEVER know what happens to the matter that is disappearing. I would love to stay ignorant to this topic.

Alas, that is not my fate today.

There are people in the world whose job it is to take care of other peoples' crap. They gave me a bill for $3000 today. I gasped, but I still don't think that it is enough.

Got me thinking though, about the metaphor in this story. What other kinds of crap back up in our lives? How many emotions and "issues" do we flush down our internal toilet-- never wanting to know where they are going, until one day, our proverbial septic tanks back up on us and we blow.

There is something to be said for a "sewer system" which constantly takes our "crap" far away from us-- 'relieving' us from the danger of it building up under the tree in the front yard. However, when the sewer backs up, you don't just have your own crap to deal with-- you've got everyone elses too.

I've been hiding out at the office all day. Not because I have things to do here (obviously, I'm blogging from my desk), but because if I go home, I will have to face the sad truth that there are not magic fairies who just come and take away all of the bad stuff in my house.

That stinks.

Literally.