how to delight me II

It is late, and we are getting ready for bed. You are in the bathroom shaving and I am laying in the bedroom with my new book, reading. You call my name, and say, "You have to see this!" I get up and walk into the bathroom and you are holding what looks like a thirty-year old dead rat that was forced down a pipe-- the color of something purified. You say, "Look what I pulled out of our sink." I'm not sure exactly what concocted that mass, one can only imagine that it must have been years and years of soap scum and hair (thinking positively). Nevertheless, you fixed it, and now that sink, our sink, drains beautifully.