Me: “Does that look like a water spot above the kitchen table?”
DW: “Yeah, but I’m sure it was from when the kids overflowed the toilet.”
Me: “So you don’t think it’s a leak?”
A month later.
Me: “I think that spot is getting bigger. Maybe there really is a leak.”
DW: “You’re just paranoid. It’s always been that size.”
A month later.
Me: “That is definitely bigger!”
DW: “It’s not bigger! It’s just a stain and I’ll fix it this summer.”
Me: “Honey, I know you are golfing but could you tell me how to turn off the water to the house?”
DW: “WWHY? What did you do?”
Me: “I’m all wet and looking at a hole in our ceiling above the kitchen table.”
DW: “I’m on my way home.”
Prior to my phone call, The Hare and I were enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon. She was finally feeling like herself again after battling a stomach virus. We had spent several days watching hour after hour of HGTV. Two of our favorite shows are Holmes on Homes and Holmes Inspection. While The Tortoise was sitting at our kitchen bar, I noticed a small water bubble forming on the ceiling above our kitchen table.
“Do you see water up there?” I said pointing.
“Maybe,” replied The Hare squinting.
“I’m gonna check it out, come hold the table for me.”
“OH NO!” The Hare panicked, “Holmes says where there’s a drip, there’s a flood!”
“Don’t be silly, it’ll be fine, I promise.”
Standing on our kitchen table, I could definitely see that there were two water bubbles clinging to our ceiling. The Hare stood directly below.
“PLEASE Mommy, don’t touch it!”
I gingerly raised my hand to the ceiling and started to brush off the drops of water. Suddenly the ceiling burst open, dumping about a gallon of mucky water all over me, the table and The Hare. She started screaming and running frantically through the house, trying to escape the crime scene.
“I TOLD YOU! WHERE THERE’S A DRIP, THERE’S A FLOOD!”
“Hare! It isn’t gushing anymore, it’s okay. You’re just wet”
“It’s a flood! It’s a flood!” She continued to scream, crouching at the top of the stairs, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, “We have to evacuate. RIGHT. NOW.”
It took me a few minutes to assure her that there was no more water. (And convince her she was not going to get a virus from being doused in toilet water.) It also didn’t appear to be a pipe, but I turned off the water just to be safe. Everything within 4ft of the table was wet. While I was mopping it up, The Tortoise came home.
“Holy crap!” she exclaimed.
“Literally,” said The Hare.
“Well,” The Hare continued,”I guess you were right. It was a leak.”
All three of us started to laugh, but then I panicked. Grabbing their hands, we knelt face to face.
“Everybody put your hands in the middle and repeat after me,” I said.
It felt like we were in a football huddle about to break for our next play.
Me: “I solemnly swear”
The girls: “I solemnly swear”
Me: “That I will not say anything hurtful, sarcastic, or insulting to Daddy”
The girls repeated again.
“And above all, I will not tell Daddy ‘I told you so‘ “.
A few giggles erupted, but they complied. We quietly stayed in our huddle.
“Is that it?” whispered The Hare,” ‘cuz it feels sorta unfinished.”
“Amen,” I responded.
“Amen? Why’d you say that?” asked The Tortoise.
“Well, duh,” said The Hare, “it’s Sunday!”