Hear me roar.

I want credit. Do you hear me? I want kudos and pats on the back - applause maybe. Not for the Longhorns' win - I had nothing to do with that (except will them to victory with the force of my desire!!!!). No, I want your undying admiration because I, little ole me, am fixing my own toilet.

I'm not talking about plunging. I did that, too, when I first had the house and my toilet was new and unsure of itself. I'm talking about MAKING A REPAIR.

For weeks, it's been running. Not loudly. But insistently. I haven't felt a need to jiggle the handle or try some kind of repeat flushing or something. It's not anything I could hear in the wall or the tank. I didn't even hear it at first. I saw it. I noticed that there seemed to be a trickle of water entering the bowl from the tank for no apparent reason - it hadn't been recently flushed. This is impressive since I keep the lid down most of the time. I actually have no idea when it started precisely for that reason. But I noticed it.

I knew I should do something, but the holidays were in full force, and I didn't have time to ask my dad to come look at it (Always have your dad look - he'll look for free. He may not know how to fix it, but he'll look. And *maybe* he'll know how to fix it. A plumber will charge you just to look, and maybe it's something you could've fixed. That's free advice - from this homeowner to you.). I thought of one other person who might be able to help me, but there wasn't a convenient time to ask him either. So, I let it trickle. But as these things usually go, the trickle got bolder. It began to pick up momentum, until I couldn't just see it anymore - I could hear it. A soft little fountain gurgling happily next to me when I stood at the sink. I kept lifting the lid, looking at it as it picked up steam a little more each day. But I'm busy! I don't have time for this!

I even printed out instructions from the Web last week on how to repair a running toilet. But I kept reading them and thinking, "This is plumbing! What do I know of plumbing! Floats and valves and...it says the word 'cock' in these instructions. How did that get through my Internet filter? I should go update my software. That I know how to do."

Last night, though, I could take my timidity no more. If Vince Young can rise up from the ghettos in Houston to become the greatest player in college football (screw the Heisman), then by God I can fix my own toilet!!! So, I did it. I picked up the instructions, went into the bathroom, and removed the top off the tank. I tried the first couple of things they told me to try - no dice. Then it said to reach down into the tank, to the bottom, and push down the edges of the valve at the bottom to see if the seal was no longer working properly. "I can't put my hand into a toilet tank."

A week ago, this would've stopped me. But not now. Not after the Rose Bowl. I went and got a Playtex rubber glove.



Yes, I did. If they're good enough for cleaning up when my cat misses the litter box, they're good enough for the toilet tank. I slipped that thick yellow toilet-water prophylactic on, and I plunged my hand into that tank like I put the Roto in Rooter. I pressed on the seal around the valve, peered into the bowl, and lo and behold, the trickling stopped! It was the VALVE!!!

I checked my instructions again. Turn the water off, flush to drain out the water in the tank (I flushed twice - let's get out as much of the reviled tank water as possible), remove the valve, take it to Home Depot and get a new one. Put the new one on, and voila!!! A quiet, still toilet, as nature intended. Glove still firmly in place, I followed the instructions to remove the valve, and it does appear to be deformed in one spot. I'm going today to get the new valve, and I'm sure I will hear Helen Reddy singing in my head as I peruse the plumbing aisle.

The only possible downside to this is if I'm married someday and my husband expects me to still do such things.