It's Boxing Day and We're All Still Breathing . . .

We all survived real Christmas as well. Spousehole planted himself in a recliner at my parents' house and didn't move most of the day. He watched DVDs and assorted television programs all freakin' day. I think he talked to the cat more than any humans (he was in the cat's chair, so the cat just sat on him).

My in-laws got me the Cuisinart electric fondue pot I've been coveting. (Shut UP! It's fun.) My parents got me the digital instant-read kitchen thermometer I've been needing (my old one died a horrible grill-related death). Spousehole even gave me gifts, including one I actually asked for (a bottle of good balsamic vinegar - the good stuff is expensive). The kids gave me some fabulous undies that I absolutely adore (i.e., I bought them for myself and had the kids give them to me).

Today, December 26, is Boxing Day. No, it has nothing to do with pugilism or boxing up all the gifts or the trash. Well, sort of the trash. It was explained thusly to my in-laws when they moved to England way back when: Boxing Day began in English upper class households. On the day after Christmas, the leftovers of the feast would be boxed up and given to the servants to take home to their families for their own celebration (which naturally occurred after that of the upper class families, as the servants had to serve on Christmas Day.) There are other explanations as well. Choose whatever explanation makes you happy. Now it mainly a day for sales in England and the rest of the Commonwealth. Mostly in America we call it "After Christmas Sale" day or "Gift Return Day." I did return a gift today. My MIL got me some pants for Christmas that were very nice except that they were 2 to 3 sizes too big. Apparently I look even fatter than I am. Wonderful.

I also spent my day in a rather unusual manner. We had a leaky pipe under the kitchen sink. Okay, more than leaky - streaming water from the drainpipe. Spousehole looked at it, poked at it, and stuck his finger right through the soft pipe. The joys of an old house. I looked at it, told him what needed to be replaced (he was headed for his "how to fix stuff" books for assistance), and continued on preparing food.

A short bit later, he claimed we did not have a big enough tool to grip the slip joint nut to remove the drain pipe. He made me call my dad to see if he had a bigger one. My dad said he left his largest water pump pliers here last time we had plumbing issues and he couldn't imagine it wasn't big enough. Spousehole said it wasn't big enough and my dad suggested we try our neighbors.

Spousehole went down to the basement to play video games. He had declared that I would just not be able to use the kitchen sink until he could borrow the right tool to fix it. I could still get water from the sink in the bathroom off the kitchen, but my dishwasher drains to that pipe so I would be unable to use the dishwasher. And the bathroom sink is too small to wash dishes. I decided to take a look at the pipe situation. I don't know what Spousehole was trying to do, but I got the water pump pliers on there just fine, loosened the nut, and removed the "rusted from the inside out" drain tube. Spousehole was dumbfounded and to this moment still does not understand how I got it off.

I ran to the hardware store, got the parts I needed, had the "helpful hardware man" cut the pipe to the length I needed, and installed the whole shebang. It works perfectly, of course.

We all have our talents and strengths. Spousehole's is computers, not plumbing.