Throw Mama from the Drain

Today I exacted my revenge on the stubborn tub drain.  The boys maintain their innocence on the matter of why the drain was clogged.  I spent my evening pouring liquid plumber down it in an attempt to clear the murky blue water out so that I could see the drain.
I sent the boys to shower in Caitlyn's shower and girded myself for battle.
A leatherman mutli tool, a multi head screw driver and a number 4 boyle knitting needle.  Thus armed, I knelt  at the side of my foe.  The blue water had drained, but there remained a suspicious viscus white sludge.  I proceeded to take the drain apart.  This required the use of the screw driver, but since the remaining water was still soapy, I had to employ the leatherman grip to turn it.  This resulted in my hand slipping off the grip and slamming into the side of the tub.
Several graphic and illegal forms of child torture flitted through my mind.  I bellowed for a washcloth and calmed myself with a variety of images of me making my children take care of me in my old age.  I plan on living a very very long time, incontinent.  Now with my hand covered in the washcloth, and holding the grips that were turning the screw that holds the drain cap, I exerted mighty force.  A horrible noise squeaked through the tub and then it gave.  Whoever designed a drain that required slippery hands to turn a tool tightened screw at the bottom of the tub should be brought forth and tarred and feathered.
I finally pulled the knob off and there was yet another screw to be turned, only this time it was submerged.  I employed my new skill of screw driver manipulation.  Another terrible squeal went up and I imagined it to be the plumbing saints urging me on.  The mechanism was now fully exposed.  Ah!  My battle cry reverberated through the bathroom.  The dogs quickly left the room, not wanting to be the target of my wrath.
I took my number 4 Boyle knitting needle (please, knitting friends, forgive me) and rammed it into the small space that some childless engineer thinks is adequate to drain a large tub.  Resistance and then soft white flotsam came to the surface.  It looked eerily familiar. Then it hit me.  Memories of the great toilet back up of 2009. Toilet paper.  There was roughly half a roll of toilet paper down there!
I stabbed again and again into the heart of the beast.  White entrails of paper succumbed to my efforts.  Then, more blockages.  I reversed the needle and used the cap to snag a small strand of blue mesh.  Ah, this I had in front of me, the blue bath scrubby.  I tossed it into the trash.  The drain gurgled slightly, as if it were a heart monitor sprung back to life!  I had to save my patient! 
I used the needle again and pulled out enough hair to cover a Yorkie! The drain burped noisily, the life coming back to it.  I went in hard and pulled up a plastic bubble stick.  The drain sucked in air noisily and the last of the water swished away.
I cautiously ran water and then yelled my war cry!  I DOMINATED THE DRAIN!
It was functioning happily!  I was happy, the drain was happy!
I went down the hall to put away my weapons and savor success.
"Mom"
I was queen of my domain.
"MOM"  Caitlyn's shout crushed my day dream.
"What?"
"Did you say the boys could use my shower?"
"Yes"
"Well, now the water won't go down."

sigh

And how was your day?