What to Do When You Wake Up to a River Running Through Your Kitchen

My first response at 6:30 in the morning when I heard the toilet had leaked water on the floor was to roll over and go back to sleep. Randy's got this. Then when he didn't return to to bed, I became more inquisitive, "I thought you said the toilet leaked a little." When I finally moved the blankets and let my feet touch the cold laminate, I realize what he called a leak I would label a flood. Several towels later, I took the dogs out to pee thinking I could at least help by not allowing them to add to the liquid.

Just as I assumed, upon my return the table laid covered with notebooks and papers and Randy sat staring at his phone. With the assistance of "the manual" and YouTube my man can fix anything. I have seen him change an engine in the middle of the forest - but that is a story for another time. 

Just yesterday, Randy changed the oil in the RV as I sat under a tree surrounded by leaves somewhere in Delaware. Our rig had 4,000 miles on it since we left home and would need an oil before we returned. His motto has never been "better late than never." He is more of a "do it now" kind of guy. Since we had no plans yesterday, Randy changed the oil in the motorhome in a campground. 

As we've vacationed on short trips throughout our married life, Randy repeatedly has asked, "Why do old men in RVs wear those blue one piece coveralls." Think of a prisoner in orange and you will know what I mean only change the clothing to the color blue. We always laughed when we spotted an old guy dressed in a jumpsuit.

On his 60th birthday shortly after we purchased our dream motorhome with the intent to travel in retirement, I purchased and gift wrapped a jumpsuit for my man. It's been in storage until yesterday when he adorned it to change the oil. 

I've digressed - let's journey back to the river story. 

This is what I witnessed in his repair process following the mopping of the floor. After Randy read the manual he muttered, "Yeah, that's what I thought it was." When we registered the next day at a new RV park, they had a small RV parts and supplies store so he asked if they had a water valve repair kit in stock. By this time he had already stood on his head and took a picture of the part's number so he knew what was needed. There was a day the picture wouldn't have been needed but with age our eyes focus less. 

The man at the parts store took longer to explain what had to be done than it would eventually take Randy to actually complete the task. After handing Randy a seal kit he thought would work, the clerk double checked the number only to determine the store didn't have the correct part in stock. Then he proceeded to explain to Randy that the job might be "over his head" and if needed he could recommend a man who could repair the leak. 

When we got the the next RV store, the clerk behind the counter affirmed they had the part in stock. He then proceeded to attempt to persuade Randy to purchase a new toilet bowl because "they have been havin' lots of problems with those bowl." We exited the store with parts in hand after Randy assured the man that he could handle the repair. 

After a few minutes comparing the instructions that came with the parts to RV's manual, Randy removed the bolts that held the toilet to the floor and carried it outside. He rebuilt the water valve by putting in new seals. Then he carried it back to the bathroom and resealed it with a new flange gasket. 

He needed basic tools: a screwdriver, needle nose pliers, and a half-inch wrench. He had a towel accessible to clean up any drips and a plastic bag to hold the old parts and garbage. Within a hour from when he started, the project was complete including cleanup. He looked at me with a sideways grin and a wink when he said, "You know, it really wasn't over my head.

Ride along on our travels by following Brenda Mahler. He drives while I write.