Susan Senator

‘Cause now I’m living on [Austin] Power
–EC and me, “Blues Power”

Who’d have thunk that after all that kvetching about plumbing and construction (“conshrucken,” as little Max used to say; he also once said that “at the end of the day, the conshrucken men go home to their mommies” Oh, Little, Little! So incredibly sweet.) that at the end of my day, I’d end up laughing my head off? Well, here’s what happened.

I am almost afraid to say it, for fear of a kaynahorah, but the putrid pipe plumbing project went extremely well. Those conshrucken men did exactly what they promised: they dug a huge, grave-like trench from below my pantry window out almost to the sidewalk and they removed tree roots as big as my arm, which were clinging to bits of broken old waste pipe. They put in a brand new PVC pipe, and they put back the dirt. All as it was getting dark, while it was snowing. I was so impressed that I gave them beers before they left.

There was a hitch, of course. We had no water for most of the day, and were forbidden to pour liquids down drains or flush toilets, and Nat had a half day of school. Not the best of circumstances for an already anxious young man, whose front lawn had disappeared under a minivan-size mound of dirt. But that young man has always been known as MiniMan (not to be confused with Mini Me) because he always does what he can! I explained to him, with lots of hugs, that we could not use the faucets or flush. He was okay with the flushing part (evidence of God), but Nat must, must, I tell you, rinse out his ice cream cup and wash after eating. Con brio, with a lot of splashing and watery enjoyment.

Ah, but I have crummy old sinks, so I used the rubber stoppers and everyone was happy.

Water back on by 5:30 p.m. and yard filled in so that by the time Max and Ned came home, it was as if conshrucken had not happened to good people.

We had a (luscious Purdue pre-cooked) roast chicken for dinner and then celebrated the fourth night of Chanukah, feeling very snug and smug about being able to check off one more really lousy house project. (Next: clean all the ducts and then, maybe, just maybe, start to lobby for a shower to be built in Max’s bathroom, the really big one with the big clawfoot tub where I take my baths. The one with the ugly linoleum! How is it that I still have linoleum somewhere in my house? And this way I could have a bathroom to myself, not shared with four males! Yes, in a house with four bathrooms, only one has a modern shower. But getting Ned to think about bathroom renovation is just a complete awful project in itself.)

I really felt like a movie. We have not watched anything all week, except 30 Rock and The Office. Ned suggested we watch Austin Powers, which B has never seen.

You see, over the summer my niece Kimmy — B’s best friend — got hooked on Austin Powers. She was great at imitating Fat Bastard: “I ate a baby once. Baby — the other, other white meat” and Beast wanted to know what she was talking about.

I popped popcorn and divided it into three bowls for sharing, depending on where you were sitting. I was lying against Ned on one couch; Ben was on the fat yellow chair; Nat was on the other couch under a blanket. Ned coaxed Max to come down and join us, so Max obliged (yay) and sat with Nat. I tried not to make too big a deal of the fact that we were all doing something fun together, but secretly I was so happy about this that it was tempting to just look at all of them as much as the TV.

Ben was simply delighted with it from the beginning, when it is revealed that his new bride Vanessa is really a Fembot (even he had never imagined those kind of guns). Then Austin is naked, except always covered by the opening credits. Then there’s Mini Me, and the phallic laser, I mean, how much more perfect? Sure, there were parts he did not understand, and we let it B. He was squealing with laughter, and so then were we all.