I was mid-shower today when Morgan began pounding frantically on the door and yelling, "Mom! Mom! Mom!" This sounded different than the standard daily interruptions, so I asked what was the matter. "The handle is broken and the water is pouring out!! I can't turn it off!!!"
Okay, now what do you envision here? Then add to that vision the fact that just earlier this year we had a toilet overflow which resulted in a bathroom floor redo and downstairs closet ceiling restoration. Water flooding, seeking the lowest point, saturating surfaces only to manifest itself in horrible, fuzzy, slimy, foul ways when you least expect it. What would you do?
Disregarding my mid-shower status, I turned off the water, haphazardly flung my towel around me, tore open the door, issued an abrupt command: "Move!" and ran, the ends of my towel flailing unheeded behind me. I could hear the water running in the sink, adding desperation to my flight. Around the corner, and
nothing. Yes, the water was running full blast, but it was happily draining with not a sign of disaster in sight. I sagged in relief, issued another command: "No more water for you!" and followed my trail of soggy footprints back to the abandoned shower.
So can you guess how many lucky stars I thanked today? In honor of our holiday around the corner, here's one at least. I am grateful for solid walls and closed doors.
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