The root of the problem

So, Jason had a fun day yesterday. We've been having problems with the sink in the basement -- it overflowed a few times while doing laundry and we thought the drain was probably clogged with some lint. When the sink overflowed again that morning, Jason thought it might be a good idea to get a professional in. I had plans for the day to meet up with my friends from high school and to go to Lindsay's baby shower, so Jason and Molly settled in to wait for the plumber.

Approximately 5 hours later, I see a text message from Jason asking me to call home as soon as possible. It's not like him to be dramatic, so I ran outside to place the call. I assumed it was probably something to do with the plumbing, but was not expecting for him to tell me that the clog in our sink was due to ROOTS growing in our pipes. What?! Apparently we're going to have to rip out and replace all of the clay pipes that run underground between our house and the sidewalk. So what we thought was going to be a $100 quick fix is now going to end up being a very very (very) expensive project that will require us to tear up half of our landscaping. Boo.

Oh, and did I mention that somehow, while all of this was happening, Jason managed to break one toe and injure another? Yes, his pinky toe is completely black, and a toe on the other foot was somehow impaled by a stick in the yard. Think he might have been a little distracted yesterday? Poor guy!

I felt terrible that Jason spent the entire day dealing with this mess while I was having fun with my friends, oohing and ahhing over cute baby gifts. And odds are, he's going to have to keep dealing with it all week as we get estimates and then start moving forward with the work. I think I owe him one. Or ten.

Welcome to the suburbs!