The classic red rubber friend. A few good pumps. Nothing. A few aggressive, life-questioning pumps. Water level drops an inch, then climbs back. The gurgle it makes sounds almost sarcastic.
There’s a special kind of dread that comes from hearing the words “upstairs toilet blocked.” Not the downstairs loo. Not the guest powder room. The upstairs toilet. The one that sits directly above the living room sofa. upstairs toilet blocked
Maybe it’s just slow draining? Give it ten minutes. The classic red rubber friend
That’s the real lesson here. After an hour of DIY heroics, I finally called a professional. He arrived in 45 minutes, fed an industrial-grade snake down the pipes, and pulled out… a small, melted hair clip. From 2019. The toilet has been holding a grudge for four years. A few aggressive, life-questioning pumps
If I flush again, will it overflow onto the bathroom floor, soak through the ceiling, and drip onto the new rug downstairs? Yes. Yes it will. So we don’t flush.
Twenty minutes of twisting metal, praying for a “thunk” that means hair or a toy soldier. Instead, just wet toilet paper and regret.