Everyone who lives with a septic system can relate to this. If you have city water and sewer, use your imagination!
Today I had the fun of a septic tank pump out. This must be done every year or so, depending on the size of the family. This is why I have my own porta john for the groups of kids that tour Frolic Farm. It comes in handy, as you can guess. Anyway, before the septic service arrived, I needed to dig up the small door on the lid of the tank, which is completely covered with grass. Unfortunately, I can never remember exactly where to dig, and naturally, I lost the sketch I had made the last time. I started digging at the logical place, nearest the house where the septic line feeds in, and was wrong again. I kept digging all the way to the middle of the tank lid, and there it was. Success!
The septic guy arrived with his truck and pumped it out. That is a job I would not want. The aroma rivaled Dollie Llama’s stall. That poor man must be nose blind.
After all that digging, I am pooped out, so to speak.