Before you read this, I ask one thing. Just one. Very simple...while you read, you must have the tune of "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" going in your head. Don't worry. It will all make sense.
And I changed my mind, I am going to ask something else, too. Each of my blogs is posted with absolute honesty, so in the interest of my already fragile psyche....NO MAKING FUN OF ME.
So let us begin.
Some days are better than others. Right? We have all been there. You make the best out of each and every day. However, some days, there is just no place to go with what you got. Especially when what you got shows up at midnight.
Remember, Raindrops keep falling on my head....
Now imagine....a solid, sound, deep sleep. Warm covers, inviting pillow and a 10 year old SCREAMING LIKE A MANIAC. "There is water everywhere in my room and the basement."
I jump out of bed to see what was the matter (is that plagiarism? I love the Night Before Christmas). I roar down the stairs, and I can hear it before I see it...but the kitchen floor is covered with water. I immediately see that it is coming from under the kitchen sink and throw the doors open. And it was like a scene out of a sitcom. A psychotic water line wreaking havoc with all of my cleaning materials. Bummer.
So in I go, with my hands in front of me to protect me from the violent stream of water that is intent on ruining every thing it can in the shortest amount of time. With a little wrestling (imagine me wrangling a spaghetti noodle), I manage to get it under control and shut off all of the water.
As Savannah went to get towels, I went to survey the damage in the basement. I walk down the stairs this time, because the sound of rushing water is so loud. I almost didn't go because at that point, I didn't really want to know. But my curiousity got the best of me....and that was dumb.
Raindrops keep falling on my head.....
And the beautiful rushing waterfall coming out of the vent in the playroom was truly a sight to behold. So I run to Savannahs room and survey the beautiful sounds of the rain dripping from her ceiling...lovely. Next job...get the bowls...lots and lots of bowls.
The first thing we do is try the wet/dry vac. It sucks...and not in the funny vacuum joke kind of way...it was useless. You would think with an inch of water on the floor it couldn't miss...but it did. So we do the best damage control we possibly could. I go upstairs, dejected, depressed and torqued out of my mind. And then...the A-HA moment hits. WooHoo.
I grab my carpet cleaner and begin soaking up several gallons of water. It was pure genius. By the time I was done, the carpet was simply damp, not soaked. YAY. We have done everything possible, we wait for the playroom to stop dripping and head to bed.
Morning has broken (okay, so I am really pushing it with the whole music thing, but oh well). And I go to survey the damage. Still a nightmare...what a surprise.
So I begin making phonecalls. And can I just say, we had the best contractor do our addition, and he was the first person I called. He was more than willing to get someone out immediately to get the wet ceiling down so we wouldn't get mold, mildew and all of the horrible things that make your house unlivable.
It took a couple of hours to get furniture moved and things covered, but the end result is quite fetching. A gaping whole in the ceiling that makes the owner of the room scream when she comes home from school is what every home needs.
And then there was the pulled back carpet, with the mega fans, the toys moved every where so I can get to the wet spot (giant wet spot). It was like a dinosaur used my playroom like a litter box, know what I mean?
So while we were having the fun of the aftermath, I get a plumber out here. (It happened to be our contractors son). Who by the way, kindly pointed out that it was my fault from when I replaced the water line, and it took him 10 minutes to fix. Now, this is where my fragile ego comes back into play...it was my fault. Okay? Are you happy? I said it. I am not saying anymore. And the bright spot, was that he didn't charge me. Thank goodness.
While it was an incredibly wild ride, especially for the middle of the night...we were very, very, very lucky. It isn't nearly as bad as it could be....cuz it could have been bad.
As per blogs past....
Lessons Learned.
1. I am NOT a plumber.
2. I love my carpet cleaner...it is a magical toy.
3. Savannah does NOT like getting rained on in the middle of the night.
4. Everything material can be fixed.
5. Oh yeah, I am NOT a plumber.
You can stop singing Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head now.
And I changed my mind, I am going to ask something else, too. Each of my blogs is posted with absolute honesty, so in the interest of my already fragile psyche....NO MAKING FUN OF ME.
So let us begin.
Some days are better than others. Right? We have all been there. You make the best out of each and every day. However, some days, there is just no place to go with what you got. Especially when what you got shows up at midnight.
Remember, Raindrops keep falling on my head....
Now imagine....a solid, sound, deep sleep. Warm covers, inviting pillow and a 10 year old SCREAMING LIKE A MANIAC. "There is water everywhere in my room and the basement."
I jump out of bed to see what was the matter (is that plagiarism? I love the Night Before Christmas). I roar down the stairs, and I can hear it before I see it...but the kitchen floor is covered with water. I immediately see that it is coming from under the kitchen sink and throw the doors open. And it was like a scene out of a sitcom. A psychotic water line wreaking havoc with all of my cleaning materials. Bummer.
So in I go, with my hands in front of me to protect me from the violent stream of water that is intent on ruining every thing it can in the shortest amount of time. With a little wrestling (imagine me wrangling a spaghetti noodle), I manage to get it under control and shut off all of the water.
As Savannah went to get towels, I went to survey the damage in the basement. I walk down the stairs this time, because the sound of rushing water is so loud. I almost didn't go because at that point, I didn't really want to know. But my curiousity got the best of me....and that was dumb.
Raindrops keep falling on my head.....
And the beautiful rushing waterfall coming out of the vent in the playroom was truly a sight to behold. So I run to Savannahs room and survey the beautiful sounds of the rain dripping from her ceiling...lovely. Next job...get the bowls...lots and lots of bowls.
The first thing we do is try the wet/dry vac. It sucks...and not in the funny vacuum joke kind of way...it was useless. You would think with an inch of water on the floor it couldn't miss...but it did. So we do the best damage control we possibly could. I go upstairs, dejected, depressed and torqued out of my mind. And then...the A-HA moment hits. WooHoo.
I grab my carpet cleaner and begin soaking up several gallons of water. It was pure genius. By the time I was done, the carpet was simply damp, not soaked. YAY. We have done everything possible, we wait for the playroom to stop dripping and head to bed.
Morning has broken (okay, so I am really pushing it with the whole music thing, but oh well). And I go to survey the damage. Still a nightmare...what a surprise.
So I begin making phonecalls. And can I just say, we had the best contractor do our addition, and he was the first person I called. He was more than willing to get someone out immediately to get the wet ceiling down so we wouldn't get mold, mildew and all of the horrible things that make your house unlivable.
It took a couple of hours to get furniture moved and things covered, but the end result is quite fetching. A gaping whole in the ceiling that makes the owner of the room scream when she comes home from school is what every home needs.
And then there was the pulled back carpet, with the mega fans, the toys moved every where so I can get to the wet spot (giant wet spot). It was like a dinosaur used my playroom like a litter box, know what I mean?
So while we were having the fun of the aftermath, I get a plumber out here. (It happened to be our contractors son). Who by the way, kindly pointed out that it was my fault from when I replaced the water line, and it took him 10 minutes to fix. Now, this is where my fragile ego comes back into play...it was my fault. Okay? Are you happy? I said it. I am not saying anymore. And the bright spot, was that he didn't charge me. Thank goodness.
While it was an incredibly wild ride, especially for the middle of the night...we were very, very, very lucky. It isn't nearly as bad as it could be....cuz it could have been bad.
As per blogs past....
Lessons Learned.
1. I am NOT a plumber.
2. I love my carpet cleaner...it is a magical toy.
3. Savannah does NOT like getting rained on in the middle of the night.
4. Everything material can be fixed.
5. Oh yeah, I am NOT a plumber.
You can stop singing Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head now.
