We don’t actually know what’s happening in this stock art photo of a kitchen sink repair, but it looks about right. (123rf)

Early Tuesday morning, I was skating with my friend Geoff at Rockridge Skatepark, and mentioned I was probably going to write about my recent plumbing trouble.

“Plumbing trouble — that’s not a euphemism for something else, is it?” replied Geoff, who’s in his 50s and has a very dry wit.

No, it’s not a euphemism, but I’m willing to bet that replacing a kitchen faucet and its evil sprayer cousin is a close second in terms of annoyance and hassle as the kind of trouble I believe Geoff was alluding to.

I’m handy around the house — to an extent. The extent’s boundary is defined by how much I would rather be doing just about anything else over prepping and painting rooms, caulking windowsills, or trying to find the source of the strange popping/knocking sound that we have occasionally heard early in the morning high on our bedroom wall. (Seriously, your theories about that sound are welcome. Normal settling? Roof about to slide into neighbor’s yard? Send me an email at david.jasper@bendbulletin.com.)

Bar none, the cruelest category of home projects has got to be plumbing repairs and upgrades. I remember each plumbing project I have engaged in like an epic, day-spoiling battle, sometimes replete with injuries, such as hitting my head on the edge of a cabinet or a pipe under the sink. Last year, my wife and I spent the better part of a Sunday replacing two measly stoppers in our primary bathroom sinks. It turned into an ordeal, with hours lost in Home Depot, lunch eaten in a parking lot and, of course, unused pieces of metal, because when you’re doing something plumbing-related, you’ll have thought of everything – measurements, spare parts you may or may not need, it doesn’t matter. You will be back.

About 10 years ago, a wise customer behind me in an Ace Hardware line saw that I was buying kits to replace the guts of all three toilets in our home, and told me as I was wrapping up the transaction, “You’ll be back.”

When I tilted my head inquisitively, like a puzzled dog, he elaborated with a big grin. “You’re doing a plumbing project. You never make just one trip to the hardware store when you’re doing plumbing.”

I was certain I’d prove him wrong, but it was I who was proven wrong. It’s been a decade, and the memory has rusted, but I was back at the store at least twice, if not more.

Last Saturday, my wife and I were in the kitchen, and once again the gunk — I believe that’s the official term — that had formed around the push-button of our pull-out sink sprayer caused it stay stuck in the on position. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve used the sprayer to force-rinse something down the sink, only to return the sprayer to its holster and end up spraying myself, the refrigerator or whatever else was in the splash zone because the sprayer’s push trigger got stuck.

I tried once or twice to scrape off the buildup, but it didn’t do much to improve the problem. My workaround became just not using the sprayer, partly because we’d also noticed that mildew had formed inside the somewhat clear hose. A normal person would have replaced it, and I tried, once, only to discover it was the kind that was connected to our faucet, so I postponed my appointment with hitting my head on pipes until it arrived on Saturday.

“Is this something you’d be willing to fix today?” Catherine asked, drying herself off after catching some sprayer water with her clothing.

Foolishly, I said yes, and headed to Ace Hardware to pick out a new faucet. I settled on a cheaper $59 one, but I still think it’s a lot for a device that won’t last much longer than five years, maybe eight if you’ll put up with what I am willing to put up with, such as a mildewed sprayer line.

Column: Board games often reveal player’s character, or lack thereof

Finally, I turned the water supply lines off and was ready to get under the sink, except, wait, the bolts and washers holding the old faucet and sprayer hose on were so corroded they were more or less frozen in place. I was going to need a few more tools than the one wrench the box the sillies at Oakbrook Connection said I’d need.

They were full of funny ideas, such as the estimated installation time of 30 minutes. As Tim Robinson would say, “You sure about that?” Whoever did the estimating did not anticipate my sum total of four trips to Ace, which involved the new supply lines that connect the new faucet to the pipes at the bottom of the cabinet. In all, it took me just shy of 2.5 hours, including the four trips to Ace. At least Ace has free soda. Wherever he may be now, that other Ace customer from a decade back is smiling, I’m sure.

The faucet’s limited lifetime warranty provided another chuckle, or rather its fine print did. They thought of every loophole and closed it up tight, from cleaners, non-genuine parts, faulty maintenance, building code non-compliance, etc.

It might as well have read, “See ya in about five years, sucker!”

Oh yeah, Oakbrook Collection? Well get this: That new sprayer’s hose is opaque, so I’ll never even know if mildew is festering inside of it. See YOU suckers in about eight years.