There is Nothing Poetic

There is nothing poetic

about waiting until the kids are in bed

to replace a toilet’s wax ring.

The caulk I applied

a month ago

(after replacing the last wax ring)

is deteriorating

and has me worried that I did something wrong.

There is something comforting

about learning I actually had

installed the former wax ring correctly

but also frustrating

that I am redoing it.

There is something confusing

about thinking I knew why the caulk was cracking

only to realize the root problem

must be otherwise than I thought.

Thank goodness for my father & father-in-law

whom I can call for suggestions.

After yet another trip to the hardware store,

I hope I can resolve the problem

tomorrow.

I hope also that I can have 

something useful to say

when my son

or son-in-law

calls me

years from now,

10:30 at night 

mid-project.

That might be poetic.