Dearest Rachel –
So yesterday saw me sitting at home yet again; for all Mom’s mock-concern about losing track of the days with ‘two Saturdays’ at the end of the week, I can’t seem to avoid the situation. This time around, it was a continuation of an issue we had mostly dealt with of a previous Friday; that of trying to replace the old faucet in the upstairs sink, which Daniel refuses to use because it leaked (he will come downstairs to wash his hands in our master bathroom). Even the plumbers who were here a fortnight ago confirmed that, and also that it was so far gone that they couldn’t fix it, but would have to replace it.
They gave us the instructions as to what to look for (a four-inch, center-mounted faucet), and in the lull of Labor Day, I dragged the boys out to purchase the needed replacement. Logan was reasonably enthused – after all, his room is right next to the upstairs bathroom, so he uses the place as much as anyone, if not more so – but as a roomer, he was aware that he had less say in the matter. Daniel, on the other hand, was much less so, as he hasn’t wanted to change things in that place (or anywhere he considers his domain) any more than he’s had to since day one. He’s gotten perfectly accustomed to the kitchen (and he rarely ventures into the laundry room), but this is different.
This selection sorted, I contacted the plumbers again to have them come out (on their first visit, they told me that the house-call fee would be waived if I could get them over within thirty days, and here we were, in under fourteen) and install the replacement. With the appointment sorted, I informed Mom that I would be at home waiting for them, rather than reporting to the ‘office,’ and settled in yesterday morning to do so.
An hour into the four-hour window in which they were expected to arrive, Daniel came by. It turned out that he’d found several faucets at the other major hardware chain that had acrylic-knobbed faucets like the one he was being forced to surrender. “I didn’t know what they were called until now,” he explained, “and I didn’t see anything like these at [the place we went to], so I just resigned myself to a change. But they have these!”
What can I say, honey? Once I know what he wants, and I can get it for him, I’m going to at least try. Besides, it was only a four-mile drive to the other place, and if their last visit was any indication, they wouldn’t actually be at the house until almost noon, at the very end of the the window I’d been given. We headed out the door and over to the hardware supercenter, hoping we could get back before he showed up.
However, as we were just about there, I got a text from the plumbers, indicating that they were on their way; it would be just my luck. I called their dispatch and told them to have the assigned plumber take his time getting there. “Well, he’s already in your town, so it won’t take him long in any event,” she responded. “He can wait for you there, but we’re going to have to bill you for the time spent.” Again, there wasn’t much I could do but finish our mad dash to and through the place.
It turned out to be a quick hunt; the plumbing fixtures were easier to find than at our first visit. However, the display didn’t seem to include any fixtures like the ones Daniel had found online.
When we ran back to the employee who had directed us to the section with the acrylic knobs, he acknowledged that it was all they had in stock. The faucet installations existed, yes, but they were only available by online order. “Those models are pretty old,” he added, with the suggestion that they were out of fashion and not often requested. Bottom line, we wouldn’t be able to find what Daniel wanted without ordering it over the internet, and we didn’t have the time for that, as the guy was waiting to install the faucet we’d already decided on.
We drove home, and sure enough, the guy was waiting there for us, so we let him in, gave him the model we’d bought on Monday, and in a little more than an hour (year, it actually tool longer than the previous visit had, and that seemingly covered more ground, if you ask me), it was put in place. The new faucet works amazingly well, too; rather than having to turn it several times around like you’re trying to completely unscrew it, it only takes a slight twist to get the water flowing. Not only that, but it goes from cold to hot water almost instantaneously. If nothing else, Logan was grateful for the change.
Daniel, on the other hand, insists that he’s still not going to use it, but rather continue to come downstairs to wash his hands after using the washroom up there. I don’t know what else to tell you about it, honey, and I don’t know how to get him to accept it. It feels like a pointless effort, but I guess at least it’s gotten done.
Letters to Rachel 