This Stinks

We noticed a nasty smell in the house last night. We assumed it was my son. He’s taken to wearing the same pair of underwear every day. We’re going to have to scrape them off of him like paint from a window. Needless to say, Julia and I are not on board with the whole ‘wear the same pair of underwear until it decomposes on you’ stunt. In response, we’ve been ordering him to show us his skivvies every morning to ensure that he’s actually changed.

This led him to change tactics. He still didn’t change. He just kept layering each new pair of underwear on top of the old. My wife figured it out when he could no longer buckle his pants. She peeled off five pairs of fruit of the looms, like he was a tighty whitey onion.

Anyway, turns out the smell last night wasn’t Jack. It was sewage. We hope that being mistaken for a sewage backup will be enough to discourage future perma-undie adventures from Jack, but that’s not the point. The point is we had poo in our basement and we were unhappy.

The poo was overflow from the septic tank. Hold on for a quick septic tank lesson. We have a septic tank where everything flows from the toilets, sinks, washing machine, and showers. The water from all those devices flows out of the tank and in to a pumping chamber while the septic tank keeps the (ugh) solids. That pumping chamber in turn pumps the disgusting water up in to the leach field where it gets cleaned by sand, gravel, and other stuff before seeping back in to the soil. The system works great unless the pump in your pumping chamber isn’t pumping. Then it becomes a poop fountain and seeps back in to your basement where you mistake the terrible smell for your seven year old son.

I learned all about the workings of the septic system from Frank the cesspool professor. Frank was tattooed and sweaty and he smelled like my son only I’m pretty sure he changed his underwear regularly. He came to rescue us and he was a breath of fresh air. Well, maybe that’s not the best way to put it. He did have flies circling him. How about he was refreshing? Um, no, no. That doesn’t work either. The flowers wilted in his wake. Let’s just say we were happy he was there and not just because he stopped the poop.

See Frank loves his job. Seriously. He likes explaining how septic tanks work, interacting with people, and occasionally saving them from one of the worst experiences a home owner can have. He figured out that the pump was broken, pumped out all the nastiness, set up a repair appointment, then gave us a $30 off coupon. And he did it all with a smile while casually acknowledging that he understood our anxiety and that we were not alone.

So what does this have to do with Usher syndrome? Well, like sewage backup and my son, Usher syndrome stinks. And like our septic problem, it’s just about he worst experience a family can have. Yet it’s amazing what a smile and a positive attitude can make it seem much better. I mean, when Frank left our house still stunk. He didn’t clean the basement and the pump was still broken. But we still felt better about our situation. We felt like it was going to be OK.

We could go a long way with a roomful of Franks.

Of course we’d need open a few windows.