You know how some family traditions are just born, not really meant to be created? Accidental, I suppose, and I remember one vividly from my childhood that I'm quite sure that my father would prefer was long forgotten.
We used to have fairly significant family gatherings of cousins and aunts and uncles about once a year, on Christmas, Thanksgiving or Easter. Each year, usually on the colder holidays, my mom would back up the sink. Usually from garbage disposal overuse. I think the potato peelings were the culprits.
Anyhow, there was my father, every year, in the cold and the dark at the front of the house snaking out the kitchen sink plumbing. There was some sort of release valve at the front of the house, right where the kitchen sink was. He would get his shoes on, find the snake (you would think that eventually he'd just get it out when he got out the Christmas decorations, because it was part of the holiday, but he never did), and go out and fight with the cover for the release thingie.
He mumbled a lot. I never was sure exactly what he was saying, but now that I'm an adult, I have a pretty good idea. I was usually the flashlight holder. After he'd finally get the cover off, it would dump stuff all over his shoes and he'd mumble a little more and try to jump out of the way, but he never did come out all clean.
He always got it cleaned out, eventually. In the dark. In the cold. While mom was serving stuff on the good china. He'd go change his shoes, wash his hands, and enjoy the spoils of all his hard work, on the good china.