Not for the Faint of Heart (or Stomach)

This morning I noticed the kitchen sink was draining a little slowly, so I decided to employ my friend Kathleen's home remedy of baking soda, vinegar, and boiling water to clean it out and get it flowing. Before starting the cleanse I waited for the sink to drain on its own.

In the process of filling the kettle and getting a couple of dishes washed and out of the way, it became clear that there might be a clog, not just slow draining. So I got out my handy sink plunger (thanks, Dad) and gave a couple of little squeezes to see what might come of it.
What came of it was a very nasty smell, some dirty bits of sink scum and no movement of the water. Hmm. Okay, so time to try the baking soda and vinegar, even though there was standing water here.

The fizzing action and boiling water was effective in the way it is meant to be -- it dislodged a great deal of gunk from the pipe, but still no flow. Back to plunging. Now the gunk was rising up into the sink, much in the way the bile was rising up into my throat. I began to realize that despite the fact that these chunks of putrid pipe poop appeared too large to go down the drain, they were coming up from there and needed to be removed lest they simply just settled back into their horrid little home.

Out came the paper towels. Sadly, no latex body condom (or even just some dish gloves) were readily available, so in plunged my bare hands. From the hot swirling soup of skank I pulled some of the larger morsels. They bore a frightening resemblance to chopped portobella mushroom and waterlogged croutons. I began to realize that one of two things had happened here: either Adelaide has been conducting midnight experiments on food decomposition by sneaking out to buy high-end deli products and stuffing them down the drain, or the pipe beneath my sink is the perfect habitat for fungal growth. In either case, this was not looking good.

After a series of scooping, plunging, pouring of boiling water and repeating, I felt I was being watched.And indeed, there was a small plastic eyeball bobbing in the sea of muck.

When I went to wash my hands in the clog-free bathroom sink, I discovered that they were incredibly soft and moisturized, apparently from the grease-saturated water. Marge, you're soaking in it!

Needless to say, breakfast is on hold and may be off for good.