In a recent column I wrote with impunity about having repaired a home plumbing problem without the aid of a plumber. Punity found me a few days later when the plumbing clogged back up with a vengeance. Plumber’s revenge, I thought. Smelly old drain demon, my wife said.

I thought that the plumber — Irvin, the real plumber who came to our aid on Saturday — had confirmed my wife’s suspicions when I overheard him mention something to his helper about a “one-eyed monster.”

When I asked Irvin about it, he said that, no, he was talking about the electric device that forces and rotates a long plumber’s snake through the pipe to push away any damming obstacles. Said the equipment the plumbing company gave him to work with was worn out.

Irvin laughed when I told him about my wife’s demon theory. When I said she’d like to see that demon running away down the street, he added, “and on fire!”

Back to that plumber’s revenge. It’s nothing personal that a plumber wishes on you. Just add it to Murphy’s principles, like Murphy’s Principle of Loss which says that the sure way to find something that you’ve lost is to announce publicly that you have lost it. Then it will magically appear where it was all along but remained invisible until you made the public announcement.

I think that plumber’s revenge may work something like that. Irvin’s visit was a success in clearing the line, but earlier visits by plumbers and my own recent attempt have only brought temporary relief.

This time Irvin’s cantankerous “one eyed monster” pushed through. Maybe pushed something through, maybe the drain demon. With that, we agreed that he would come back Monday, dig out and under the pipe at the curve where the drain demon appears to make his home.

After he left, the plumbing flowed. Rosemary got caught up on backlogged washing, tubs were filled and drained, commodes were flushed repeatedly and it all flowed speedily away into the municipal system.

On Monday, we made a momentous decision. I called Irvin and told him that his return trip was not necessary, that whatever he had done on Saturday had worked. And if the problem returned, he knew where to start.

Irvin readily agreed. He said his helper had not showed up that morning and he’d have been digging in the cramped space by himself. Irvin had told me on Saturday that he is nearing 60. I’m near 60 myself, less so every day.

So I saved myself another plumber’s visit, pleasant as he was. But I may have doubled the strength of the original plumber’s curse if that drain demon decides to return.