On Monday, I removed a leaky, outdated, water-guzzling toilet and replaced it with a more efficient model. I also swapped out the leaky faucet for the one we removed from the bathroom we remodeled -- it's old, but it works fine. Hopefully this will be sufficient to see a drop in our water bill.
When my dad heard from Mom that I'd successfully replaced the commode without his help (or anyone else's, for that matter), he called me and talked around the fact that he's proud of me for almost five whole minutes, while I demurred the not-quite-compliments he was offering. It went kind of like this:
J: "Hello?"
D: "So, I hear you're a plumber now."
J: "Well, you only have to know four things to be a plumber."
D: "That's true, and now you must know at least five."
J: "It wasn't that hard, I just followed the instructions in the box."
D: "That's more than most people can do."
J: "There were pictures."
etc.
You need to understand: my father never, ever calls me on the phone just to chat. The only time he ever dials my number is when he's dropping by to fix something, drop something off, or pick something up -- and half the time, he makes my mom call for that.
So getting a call from Dad so that we could chat about my new toilet made me feel like a Handymom Diva-Princess. IMMD.