Tuesday, May 22, 2012

honey, i flooded the basement.

(this is my 500th post. it is about my domestic ineptitude. this seems fitting.)

the Scene:
our house. Sunday afternoon. wife is preparing to spend an hour or so working on her tan while husband mows the grass. to justify this exercise in slothfulness, wife throws a load of towels in the washing machine so that she can keep up the appearance of being semi-productive while really doing nothing.

a little later, wife needs a drink to refresh her and combat the sweat she has worked up from her strenuous time of watching husband push the mower all around the yard. while in the kitchen, she listens for the washer to see if it is time to switch the load to the dryer. instead of either silence or normal washing sounds, wife hears what sounds suspicously like freely flowing water in the basement. wife goes to investigate.

the Rising Action:
first, wet feet. uh oh.
second, rapidly spreading water that seems to originate under the washer.

third, quickly think: do i need to turn off the water to the whole house? good thing Chris labeled the valve last week.
finally, notice that utility sink is filled to overflowing. crap.

the Climax:
wife plunges entire arm into sink. removes rag that was blocking drain.

wife frantically grabs all the towels that are not in the washing machine and throws them semi- strategically on the floor. wife panics, runs outside to flag down happily oblivious grass mowing husband.

the Falling Action:
husband surveys the mess. seems relieved that just the laundry area is wet, and the entire basement is not under water as he expected based on wife's hysterics. dismisses need for shop-vac in favor of toweling up as much as possible, opening the basement door for better airflow, and running the dehumidifier on high.

husband helps wife carry sopping towels out to deck to dry. husband resumes mowing. wife resumes tanning.

the Irony:
wife now has to wash another load of towels.

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