zombie sink repair for zombies and over-aged children NSFW

I am not a zombie and I am not really a man as I am not yet 40, but there was an issue discovered in our house that required me to learn how to fix a sink. Fixing things is not a big deal for normal humans, but since I am not a normal human, I usually manage to make things extra difficult. Changing a kitchen faucet apparently really isn't that hard to do.

The problem that required the kitchen faucet repair was a leak sprung in what I will call the "neck" of the faucet. For the most part it wasn't a big deal, but we got one of them dishwashers that you have to roll up to the sink and connect to the faucet. When water would back up when the dishwasher was on the chill portion, it would shoot out of the neck, not unlike blood from someone who accidentally got hit in the neck by a javelin. So the water was terminated to that particular sink and a trip to Home Depot was made. A new kitchen faucet was purchased and plans were made to have me, your zombie hero, to replace the damn thing.

So I figure out how to get under the sink comfortably, which is probably the most difficult part about sink repair. I figured out how to unscrew the water connections to the existing kitchen faucet. After about a few minutes of unscrewing some rusty connections the old kitchen faucet was removed. Proud of myself I chewed through the packaging of the new faucet only to discover that we bought the wrong product. It turns out we have the hose connection, but you can't simply reconnect the existing hose to the new faucet since it needs to have the special connection. How dumb is that? So a return trip was made to Home Depot, and the proper product was purchased.

I meant to fix the damn sink Monday, but the stupid narwhal tattoo experience made me skeptical to attempt a fix late at night because I didn't want to wake my dad up when I 1) opened a fountain 2) fell through the kitchen floor, so I decided to leave the kitchen sink waterless for an extra night.

So last night comes around and I am determined to make the repair, so after dinner Sarah takes his majesty into the living room and I descend into the depths of under the sink hell. It turns out that changing a kitchen faucet is pretty easy. Here are the steps:

1. Buy a new kitchen faucet
2. Go to Home Depot and return the kitchen faucet you bought for the proper one
3. Take the old faucet out. Basically you have to unscrew 4 things and unattach the hose part. The hose part didn't disconnect easily so I just took some scissors and destroyed the hose. If the new one didn't fit, we would probably have an issue.
4. Take the new faucet out of the box. Look at the instructions
5. Put the new faucet in. Go underneath and tighten some stuff. This requires a second person to hold stuff up top as you tighten.
6. Run the water
7. Check for leaks
8. Call your dad if you get nervous about a little water coming out of the cold water handle.
9. Agree to just see if it fixes itself
10. Check to see if there is still a leak. If there is, freak out. If there isn't, chill. Right now I'm in chill mode.


Today is our third wedding anniversary. It's amazing how much has changed in three years, but the one constant has always stayed the same. Sarah and I fantasized about buying NBA teams and dedicated field hockey fields in our names to our alma maters, last night when figuring we would win the Mega Million. We did not win. But it does not matter. Because being with Sarah and Maksim is far greater in my book than being a 355 millionaire.

(Although if we won, I would have put an NBA team in DelCo.)