If you’re unclear what a “squeegee thing” is, it’s that rubber item that keeps water from going under the shower door onto the bathroom floor after it funnels off my sagging mid-section. Apparently it’s very rare because I spent all weekend scouring the internet, then driving to remote plumbing outlets that were either closed or not stocked with the desired item. Finally, I was directed to a cavernous glass warehouse in an industrial part of town. This is where I met Carl, a large man with flame tattoos on his neck, and at least three pounds of moustache. As he crossed the showroom floor, my first thought was to flee, but Carl turned out to be very friendly and he had a wealth of knowledge about all things related to water flow. I learned terminology like “3/8 gutter” and “hooded mounting device” “plastic to glass adhesive”. To be honest, under normal circumstances I would have blacked out half way through this, uh, conversation, but the empty nest is not a normal circumstance. I stay conscious for Carl because he’s pretty much all the community connection I’m going to get on this kid-deprived weekend. There will be no more AYSO. Ever. No class pot lucks. No school talent shows. But I will have Carl.
And I guess that’s why I came home with three new squeegee things.