Why sometimes it is better to have someone pamper you, or Yuck, what is that?

So, the other night I was noticing some very glaring gray roots. I have been noticing them MORE, both more of them and within a shorter time after dying. (Please bear with me, this is going to be such a vanity post.)

So, I have a LOT of gray, that has been established, I also am a non-paid working woman, i.e. a mom and so "for the team" I have decided to forgo visiting my dear Gloria and I attempt to beautify alone. This hasn't really been that large of an issue. I don't really feel like I have been deprived, but this month I think that I may have learned my lesson.

For those of you who also are chemically dependant (to Clairol....take your pick) you know that there is the "coloring" step and then the "conditioning" step. Long story short, during the "conditioning" step, I dropped the lid to the conditioner and it went down the drain.
Lost.... gone.... forever....

I was so upset about the plumbing ramifications that I stuck my finger down there too,
Slime....yuck, what is that?

I told my dear husband about our plight and he looked at me with probably the most irritation that I think I have seen our whole marriage and said,

"Why don't you use the screen thing to cover the drain?"

"Well, it was full of hair, which is so gross and my scalp was burning!"

It now seems like a pretty weak reply.

It was decided that I would call a plumber.

The first plumber arrived the next morning and "worked" on the pipe for what seemed an eternity....I say worked because I didn't actually see him do anything, but there was noise coming from the bathroom??? So work? He emerged about an hour later, head hung low and informed me that he could be of no more service to me. He said that he would have to call a guy that could go under the house. At this point, all I can see are dollar signs, but this is our only bathtub...and we need to bathe, right?

So, he calls the "super" plumber (why he couldn't go under the house and fix it is a mystery to me?) and Mr. S.P. can't come until the next day. I couldn't handle it, my bathroom now smelled like machine oil and ground metal, and my tub was full of black-sludgy water. I was supposed to wait longer?

NO, no, no, I don't care if this was supposed to be my punishment for moving the hair screen, I had to think fast....YES, I will call another plumber.....what is another bill? I need to bathe!

Finally at about 3:45 in the afternoon a lone Plumber arrived on a gleaming white steed. (OK, it was a van, a large van, and just white.) He not only could talk to me in a kind voice about my pipes, but he assured me that the problem would not involving going under the house and then I knew we might still be able to afford summer camp for the kiddies.

He was done in 20 minutes, just like that. There was a hair ball the size of our dog now on the side of the tub, but water was flowing. He was a wonderful man, our plumber.

After I thanked him profusely, he handed me the bill. I looked at it and thought....
This is exactly what I pay Gloria and she even blows my hair dry and fixes it real pretty.

So, to end (FINALLY) thank you lone Plumber, you were good to my family. Gloria, I will be seeing you next month!