Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

I shoulda been a fish.
I coulda been a plumbers apprentice.
I woulda been a lot happier if I had.

Oh how it pains me to write this point. My heart is heavy with the realization of what has come of my family. We have long had the knowledge that we are a medical family. It was something we had grown accustomed too. It seems like a heavy burden to others, but when you have born the weight of it on your shoulders, it truly is light.

As I was saying, we were hit with the reality that another genre of trial has befallen us. Oh, the dreaded foe. The hated pestilence. The wretched villian....he who looks over my should, scrutinizing every move, waiting for the moment when he can penetrate to the very depths of my soul. It is he....the dark, soul-less fiend, plumbing woes.

We had (yes, past tense...had) made it for a quite a while without a visit from the dark one. We thought perhaps the light we have born in our eyes and hearts was finally strong enough to break the bond that tied us to his hardened heart. But no...it wasn't to be. Oh, the inhumanity.

We were watching the Super Bowl. And it was indeed, a super bowl. After throroughly enjoying the one game we watch every year, the annual post-game cleaning began. I passed through the south west corner of the theater room, and stepped on something incredibly damp...wet, even. As I silently cursed my children for yet another mess they made without cleaning it up, I dutifully got the towels and soaked up the offending puddle.

The next morning (yes, today, hulloooo)I went down to wake up the children (I call them children when I am in a relatively peaceful mood) and gather a few of the necessities for school that day, and as I crossed the same south west corner...could it be? Should it be? And as my heart sank to the depths of the arches in my feet, would it be? It was. Damp could no longer be used as the adjective to describe the corner. It was absolutely, completely and utterly wet. FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.

Something stirring inside of the less frequently visited areas of my brain told me this was not a simple spill, unless of course, it was the Fountain of Youth (that perpetually percolates, perhaps), that had relocated to my home because it heard property taxes were low.

I slowly pulled the carpet and pad back, as if I were waiting for someone to stop me. STOP ME...I said STOP ME. No, no such luck. I dried up all of the concrete with towels, got everybody out the door and came back. To my astonishment, but not surprise, the concrete was shiny with millions of little reflections springing up to the heavens from the damp concrete. If it were a fairy tale, that would have been good. Since this was a horror movie...it was bad. It was very, very bad.

I slowly made my way up the stairs to the phone my mind grasping at every imaginable straw known to man. Had there been a needle in the haystack, I would have found it. I just know I would have.

With an extremely heavy heart I called our contractor because I know better than to throw a phone number away. He is a saint. I would probably try to have him canonized...if I were Catholic. Several agonized hours later, the knights in construction gear showed up. It only took four holes in my walls to find the leak. My fine plumber (this is sarcasm) from the construction of the addition, did not cap the spigot on the previous outer wall when he connected the water spigot on the front porch. Yes. You did hear right. No, this is not a joke. I have a water spigot in the middle of my house. With a turny handle and everything.

The gallant knights that had come to the rescue, quickly capped the spigot. With much laughing, slightly (okay, fully) lined with anger, we attempted photographs. While I truly only took the pictures for posterity, you never know when something like that may come in handy (I watch Judge Judy).

So as we come to the conclusion of this journey, know that I have accepted that the dark foe will be with me, baiting me and attempting to take over my world. Know this Vile Plumbing-I will never back down. I will never give up. I will never retreat. I will stand tall and firm in my opposition to you. While my ankles may be overcome with water, my heart will soar above in my never ending quest of domination to your putrid presence. I will succeed. You will be vanquished, never to return again. Hide in fear, evil one....for I am coming...for you.

Lessons Learned
1. Yes, it is my mission in life to make every one else happy with the hand they have been dealt.
2. My Turrets Syndrome may require an intervention.
3. WHY? WHY wouldn't you cap a spigot that was going to be IN BETWEEN 2 walls?
4. Is number 3 a stupid question?
5. Maybe I should turn it into a drinking fountain?