There I sat in disbelief. On the cold travertine tile surrounding the toilet flange, I chiseled away. Once again, brother-in-law Brett broke the commode. Although forty-five, he remains eternally twelve. Pulsating through the sewer pipes, Brett’s karaoke filled the room. “Living on a prayer,” my ass. The smell of poop was nauseating.

“Can life get any worse than this?” I thought to myself. Just then, a fragment of PVC pipe struck me in the eye. Holding my eyelid shut, I staggered to the medicine cabinet. There was an eye wash kit somewhere in the house and we finally had a need for it. Flipping through random first aid products proved to be pointless. A foreign object was lodged in my eye and the case of Pepto-Bismol we bought at the local wholesale club would do me no good.

“Hey what’s up?” Tilting my head back, I answered my phone.

The worry in my friend’s voice made my eyes open wide. “It’s…