The Water, The Carpet & The Plumber's Butt

I guess I should have seen it coming. We made it through Christmas; everyone safe and sound. Everyone had a joyous and Merry Christmas. Then the silence. Oh it is always the silence that one should heed warning from impending doom. Of course if you're me, it always seems to hit right after some major monetary output, oh say... Christmas. It is cold outside, the fire is warm to sit by, but the gross, cold squishy feeling of the wet carpet under my feet as I walk to the kitchen was just not in the holiday plans. Yes, a pipe has burst. OMG, the horror...



So I call my pals over at my favorite plumbers shop, because I cannot handle a job of this magnitude. They send me a very nice man. Honestly, he is a very gregarious, 300+ lbs, red neck fellow from Roswell, NM and funny to boot. But, yeah, he has the ever feared butt crack thing working. No, this guy is not the plumber from Wisteria lane. Mind you, I am not looking, but every time he asks to show me where my problem is, he turns away from me, thus, up staging me with his size 56 inch (guessing), plumber's butt. My God man, can't you just verbalize the said problem, tell me my damage and maybe some options, and move on with the fix. This is definitely the elephant in the room for the day. But guys just do not tell guys to pull up their trousers. It is an unspoken code. I think. I just want the water to quit spewing from the side of the house and get back to normal. So, lucky me, I stare a $400 fix in the eye and my new plumber friend has seared this picture of near unspeakable horror in my mind for who knows how long? I am stuck alone this week to sit with my thoughts and let this one stew, as my kids have taken a very last moment trip.





All I want for my birthday is therapy, and lots of it. At least I saved you the horror. I do not dare ask, nor even wonder what else is in store for me this week.