Editing to add that I'm linking up with One Hot Mess at The Fike Life. Go on, share your crazy!
|A gratuitous pic where you assume this post is going to be fun!|
Our basement door needs some caulk. If it rains heavy and beats in that direction, sometimes there is water. It is one of those things--it rains, we notice it, we say, "Oh gotta take care of that...." Then, we wait for it to dry out and promptly forget again. Please tell me this happens to you. Anyway, water in the basement after some heavy rain--not a shock.
Until there was water at my feet. While I was doing dishes. Then, I was all, "hey....wait a minute...what's going on here?" APPARENTLY...there was a bit of a plumbing issue. A bit. As in the pipe had come undone and the tub o' stuff I keep under the sink was full o' water and so was the whole kitchen cabinet and now the kitchen floor and oh wait did I mention the dishwasher was running and probably all the water in the basement was from when I ran the dishwasher on the way to bed the night before and NOW NOW there was a problem. (Yes that was a run-on sentence. Drama.) Not only was there a leetle leetle water in the basement, you could have floated a boat and not to mention the pure excitement of water streaming from the rafters in multiple locations. Yes, exciting. In all sorts of ways. Needless to say, Ken took the day off work to rectify such a problem.
I know you wish I had pictures of the inside of my wet cabinet and such. If I was a dutiful blogger, I would. I didn't. I could show you the aftermath--countertops laden with the items previously housed under the sink. Or the fan running to dry t'all out. But, no.
|Another gratuitous pic. Hey, there's my overgrown seedlings!|
They are in the basement. Kinda relevant.
Then there was the nearly out of gas panic on the way to take Elizabeth to American Heritage Girls concurrent with the million Hail Mary's. Because in the deluge, I'd forgotten I was out of gas and had planned on putting a little in the tank from the gas can. I had also planned on leaving a few minutes early to properly fill the van. My own personal panic there. All was well so probably didn't need to share that. Survived AHG, mostly survived the playground with the littles (in spite of the zillion times Peter got hurt). And because I am apparently a glutton for punishment....swung by ye old Sam's Club for necessities.
I'd promised pretzels from the cafe. No escaping that!
Ah yes, Sams Club. Remember, I only have the youngest half of my crew. We arrive, I take the kids to wash hands and while trying to wash one the other would be trying to play with the plungers under the sink. That was going well. Just imagine the hamster wheel of futility. Wash one's hands while one attempts running away with the plunger, put first one down to grab second and wash, first one attempts their turn with a plunger (to be clear, there were TWO freakin plungers under the sink in toddler-grabability). Trust me, there was a complaint to a manager following finally getting all the hands washed. WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND? WHO? I ask you leaves plungers out and accessible? Seriously. Gross.
They all pigged out on pizza and pretzels and I thought we were managing quite well. Of course total meltdown halfway through.... The only thing of note is that I did manage to buy toilet paper. And goldfish and animal crackers. Priorities! Tried to bolt out of the store due to impending doom of ...screaming, I guess.
Followed by no money in the account. I try to pay cash as much as possible. Well I didn't have any and didn't check the bank account before I left. Smart, I know. Praise The Lord for smartphones so I could transfer moola. And that there was no one in line behind me to make mad. Spent a gazillion dollars on nuthin'. Aaannnndd then dash to the car and load up in pouring rain.
|Here we find our joy again at Sam's--by trying to drink raindrops.|
Kens car died at the fairgrounds. He had taken the boys to Dog Club and now his car wouldn't start. They couldn't jump it. They all managed to get a ride home with a fellow 4H parent (who tried to politely manage the odiferous odiousness of Sally). Ken ran into town to buy a battery. I went to put the kids to bed so we could run out and pick up his car.
Ready for the icing on the cake? Just as I went to put her to bed--Caroline threw up all over me. And her. And the carpet. Ah yes, my favorite. Vomit, how I love thee. Scrub, bathe, re-pajama, put to bed.
And the car still didn't start, it wasn't the battery. So you know, that drama continues.
Moral to the story? Stay home, don't own a car or have plumbing. Definately don't shop at Sam's.
Funny part to all of this.... all day my older boys have asked, "Didn't you go to Sam's yesterday? Why didn't you buy xyz?" Hahahaha!