The New Guy, 7

A few weeks back I "finished" language school. Got good grades. My wife's been bragging about me. My head has grown.

Then the other day, a faucet stated leaking. You know I'm not much of a bricoleur, and so this sort of thing, especially after recently receiving a very sizeable and unexpected water bill, really has a knack for ruining my day.

My brother-in-law helped me figure out the basics of sink valves, and shortly thereafter, I showed great initiative and went to the big hardware store at my earliest convenience. I asked a man in the plumbing aisle for help finding the right replacement valve.

And I was instantly transported back to my first month in France.

He rattled off an answer and I got very few of the basics of what he was saying. I asked him to repeat himself, and he went just as fast the second time around, much like the fast mumbler at the post office a while back. I knew he was telling me they didn't carry the type of valve I needed, and I had a feeling he was telling me exactly the type I needed, though I wasn't understanding a thing he was saying, and then he told me I needed to go to a certain customer service desk, but I don't understand why. It sounded like he was explaining himself clearly and thoroughly enough, but I had no idea what was going on.

Last ditch effort: "And that's my only option?"
"Yes, sir. Only option."
"Well, thank you very much..."
"Don't mention it."

I walked out like I knew where this particular customer service desk was and I knew what I would be asking for. Couldn't find the desk, didn't know what to ask for anyway. I circled back around the store like a lost bird, something I tend to do in these situations, trying to decide what to do next, desperate. Eventually gave up and went back home exhausted.

I put the valve back in so that water wouldn't shoot everywhere before turning the main valve back on. I'm enough of a bricoleur to know these important steps, for which I'm grateful. Funny thing is, even though we had played around with the valve in several ways before this trip to the hardware store and nothing changed, this time, the leak stopped.

Sometimes I have this odd habit of making up reasons why God does certain things. On one hand, I think he could care less about plumbing and bricolage. On the other hand, I do believe his sovereignty extends even to the mundane minutia of our lives.

And so, while I wouldn't tell you this is a 100% sure-thing act of God, I have this hunch that he gave me that leaky faucet just to remind me I'm not finished learning French yet and still have a long way to go. A little humility can work wonders, you know. And once the lesson was learned, he was content fix the leak himself.

And if that is in fact the case, I imagine him patting me on the back with a smirk like I might my son after a lesson learned, knowing these little stunts aren't exactly the most desired lessons, but they're peculiar little practical jokes for our ultimate good. And all we can do is chuckle along with him, a little bit more tired than before, not exactly thankful, but admittedly a little better off in the end. You've got to hand it to him, he's creative in his methods.

And while I do have to keep worrying about my French, at least I don't have to worry about the leak.