Sunday, May 17, 2015

Chrome Legs

      Axe handle.  That’s how Dad measured women’s behinds.  Well, big women.  I never heard him mention half an axe handle or a third of an axe handle.
    But I heard him mention that some woman was at least two axe handles across the beam, many a time.  This is the story of a lady who shall remain nameless because she measured in excess of an axe handle.
    I was preschool when the folks hired a neighbor girl to help with kids and household chores.  As I recollect, she was on duty when the youngest sibling was born.  She spent the night at our house at least that once.  She was probably a high school girl at the time.
     She indulged us some.  I remember once when she panicked and jammed us all up the stairs and into bed because headlights turned into and started down the lane.  It had to be the folks coming home earlier than expected and we were up beyond our assigned bed time.  We hit the beds and held our peace.  She would make trouble for us if we made trouble for her.  She usually let us stay up later than we were supposed to.
     This event occurred while she was serving as housekeeping help.  She was washing the window in the single tiny bathroom when it happened. 
    To get to the window, you either stand in or on the bathtub.  She was standing on the bathtub. It was the same bathtub I stood on once, well many times, actually.  But once, Mother had cleaned that tub.  We were playing outside and it was damp, muddy maybe.  I got thirsty so in I came.  No time to remove shoes.  I had to climb up on the tub rim to reach the communal drinking glass, which I did, got my drink, and back outside.
     Well, it wasn’t very long before we all got a summons, the tone of which meant no dawdling.  Each one of us was marched in one at a time and made to look at the muddy mess on the tub rim that had just been cleaned that day.  I was third in line.  When my turn came, I was gripped firmly by the back of the neck, led swiftly and surely across the kitchen and into the bathroom.  There my neck was maneuvered so that I had to look at the tub.  Hmmm.  Wonder how that happened?  For some reason, I kept my mouth shut.  Hmmm.  Wonder how that happened?
    I don’t remember any other consequences.  Perhaps I was a little more careful about “tracking in” stuff for awhile.     

      So there the girl stood on the tub washing the window.  The door had to be mostly shut for her to have room to step up onto the tub.  If the door were open, she couldn’t get between door edge and the lavatory.
     I see the scene from the kitchen in my memory.  I couldn’t have seen much, but I saw her back down.  Then a bunch of things happened all at once.  There was a crunch, a shocked shout, water hitting the floor and a dance as the girl came out of the bathroom to holler for help.
    The part of her that exceeded an axe handle had caught the front corner of the wall hung lavatory when she stepped down off the tub.  The force was so great it pulled the lavatory off the wall.  One of the two water supply tubes broke and water was running everywhere.
     I don’t remember a lot of things beyond that.  Someone had to go downstairs and shut the water off.  I don’t remember Dad remounting the sink or replacing water pipes.  But it got done.  I can only imagine the hired girl’s embarrassment, she, hired to help out, had caused even more work for her employers. 
    What I do remember is that one day in the mail came a long narrow package, probably from Montgomery Wards, maybe Sears.  Soon there were two chrome legs supporting the front of the lavatory.  That thing was not going to get knocked off the wall again. 
     I’m happy to report those legs worked.  The lavatory hasn’t been off the wall since.
    I decided to clean the carpet in the bathroom.  Taking the legs out facilitated things.  They had a little rust on them.  They’ve been there over fifty years.  Please don’t tell the Goodwife.  She’ll be thinking we need to update or remodel or something.




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