I’m beginning to believe there is a cosmic link between all sewers nationwide, nay, worldwide.

That is to say that they are all linked somehow, and when one sewer system isn’t happy with you, the rest know about it and conspire to bring evil up upon you.

For instance, the day before I left for Disneyland, my septic system had a fit. It stopped working correctly. It is apparent from past dealings, that my septic system hates me. It isn’t a “feeling” or superstition, but a fact. My sewer system has it out for me. If it could, I believe it would kill me where I stand at this very moment.

It’s also apparent that my septic system has been talking around the “septic system water cooler” about it’s dislike for me and my family. It just so happens that the Disneyland Septic system must have been around during one of it’s many rants and complaints.

Two days ago, Jamie and I were walking out of the park to go back to the hotel. We had taken Ryleigh on some rides, “just the three of us”, since Seth was hanging out with G’ma and G’pa at the hotel for the night.

We stopped to empty our bladders at the Carnation Cafe, and I walked around a little in the shops once I was done. I usually get finished before the girls, it’s just the way men are made, so it was no surprise that they took a little while to re-emerge from the bathrooms.

I could tell instantly that something was amiss. Jamie had a “look” on her face that can only mean two things. The first wasn’t possible, since Seth was nowhere around.

I asked what the matter was, and she told me, “Something happened. You’re not going to believe it, and you’re not going to like it.”

Well, I didn’t like the way THAT started.

What happened in the bathroom, that will be forever known as the toilet incident at Disneyland, was this:

While Jamie was in the stall, the cellphone rang. It was her dad, but they didn’t chat long, due to the location of the call. They said their goodbyes, and Jamie placed the phone in the front pocket of her hoodie sweatshirt.

She finished her business, and got up. Turning to flush the toliet, the cellphone “shot” (her words) out of the pocket and into the toilet, just as it was flushing, never to be seen again. No lie.

Our cellphone is somewhere beneath the magical world of Disney, floating alongside someone’s digested side salad.

See, it’s not my imagination. Septic systems know me. They know me, and they hate me. My proof is stated above, and is irrefutable.

It’s t-minus 17hrs until we board a plane to California and Mickey Ears. Jamie is almost done packing, the kids are bounding around the house in anticipation. I am out back, with an employee of “All-out Sewer”. Things are good.

This morning, Jamie told me that the septic alarm was blaring, so I went to take a look. I was hoping that perhaps the on/off floats were hung up on something. That would have been an easy fix. Instead, the problem I think I found can only be fixed by qualified personnel, hence my new friend.

What seems to have happened is our pump vibrated and torqued enough to eventually break it’s connection to the pipe that ferries the sewage to it’s final resting place. It probably wouldn’t be such a problem, but since there has been no pumping happening, the chamber of sewage is filled to the very tippy top. Bonus for me!!

So, as I type this, I wait for the sewage pump truck to come and empty my tank so they can extract the pump and reattach it to it’s respective pipe.

I’m not they “cup-half-full” kinda guy, so I fully expect this to cost the remainder of our spending money for Disneyland. Perhaps the kids won’t notice they mickey hat’s they wear are made of cardboard. Boo-hoo for me.

And I just heard the truck back into the property, so I will go and watch them assess the damage, both to my pocketbook and septic system in tandem.

UPDATE***

Good news. It seems the pump was connected to the pipe after all. Bad news. The pump is fried.

Good news. They can install a new pump. Bad news. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

It’s a grand day.

Last year, on Halloween, Spider-man and Batman were brought into jail. Wonder-Woman bailed them both out. True story.

This year wasn’t as eventful. In fact, it was down right slow. I don’t mind slow, as I have said many times before, but it’s not the usual for Halloween.

We usually get tons of people brought into jail in costumes; most are drunk, which isn’t surprising. Getting one’s “drink on” for a Halloween party isn’t all that bad. It’s only bad when said “drink on” get’s said costumed partier into jail. Bad all around.

Well, as I said before, this Halloween wasn’t anything special. We only had one person come into jail in a costume. The poor guy was dressed up as a… wait for it… prison guard. HA!