Here We Go Again

In what must be pretty near a statistical impossibility, our kitchen sink needs a plumber again. I wasn't even that surprised yesterday when I reached underneath the sink to pull out the garbage can and felt soaking wet plastic. I turned on the faucet and stuck my head under there, spotting the leak immediately. The one good thing about a consistently busted kitchen faucet is that I know exactly who to call--we've finally settled on someone we really like, though I am aware that this kind of familiarity with the plumber suggests a situation that is less than ideal. Anyway, Katie the Secretary remembered me and said she'd have Bill come over right away tomorrow. I know the drill: clean out under the sink, transfer money into our checking account and have a Diet Coke in the fridge for him.