Shower of Sadness

Let me start this blog by quoting my eldest son:  "Today our family experienced the best and the worst of the movie 'RV.'"  Now, let me suggest that if you have not seen "RV" you need to run, not walk, to your nearest video rental facility.  Watch the movie, wipe your tears of mirth, then come back and read the rest of this blog.

The summer of 2008 was the beginning of our family's affair with recreational vehicles.  We lived in a small pop up camper for a month as we traveled from Washington state to Virginia.  That summer was also the first time we watched "RV."  It has become one of those oft quoted and ridiculously beloved family favorites as we have progressed to a 1972 Airstream Safari, buying a Class A Winnebago (driving it from LA to Virginia and living in it) and then to our present home, a Fifth Wheel.  "RV" is the first movie we watch in every recreational vehicle we own and we vow to never become the Monroe's, the inexperienced and unwilling family featured in the film.

Today, we became the Monroe's.  Living with three men and two dogs leaves me surrounded by bodily functions and noises they all find more humorous than I.  So, when Robin Williams' character is completely drenched with "fecal matter," as Williams puts it, after his attempt to drain the black water from the RV, my menfolk laugh and guffaw like they have never before seen the movie.  The black water tank is not water at all but everything that has drained from the toilet into a large holding tank under the RV.  We have two of these tanks because we have two bathrooms.  At most RV parks we are able to either run a hose from each tank into the drain or just use one hose and attach and reattach when draining is necessary.  At this particular site we don't have enough hose length to drain the boys' tank so today we decided to move the RV forward a few feet, drain the tank and then back up again.  Easy, right?

The important thing to remember about draining the tanks is to close the shut off valve when you are done draining.  Today we found out what happens when Someone forgot to close the shut off valve back at Ft. Hood the last time the tank was drained.  Donald got the hose ready for attaching and began unscrewing the cap that closes the drain.  Since the shut off valve was wide open everything in the holding tank began spewing out over my husband and all over the ground.  My eyes flew open in amazement (I was standing a safe distance from the RV, high and dry) and I believe there may have been some swearing involved but I can't be sure as I was trying, unsuccessfully, not to laugh out loud which turned into snorting through my nose.  When I stopped for air my snorts dried up at both the instantaneous and hideous stench and the sight before me.  Donald was not as drenched as Robin Williams but he was bad enough that I wasn't about to go near him!  I tried to be as helpful as I could by spraying off the concrete pad and the surrounding area in order to eliminate as much of the mess as I could.  Then I stumbled inside in order to have a private belly laugh and to tell the boys what just happened.

When Donald finally came inside the first words out of the boys' mouths consisted of another "RV" quote, "How was your shower of sadness, Papa?"  He silently stalked away to the shower, not seeing the humor of the situation until sitting down to lunch some time later.  #1 has requested that next time the tanks need drained that he be informed ahead of time so he can have the video camera at the ready. 

There you have it, folks.  Another Big Adventure SNAFU.  Learn from our mistakes and remember to always close your valve! 

PS:  If anyone knows anyone who wants to make an "RV" sequel, I am available for consultation and script writing.