...and now, I'm a real homeowner. (Part 687)

Returning from our jaunt around Georgetown last night around 8, Joey and I entered a house that couldn't be more tranquil: A load of laundry swished in the washer, the dishwasher was humming, and the pleasant smell of the new Airwick was in the air.

Joey went up to shower, and I sat down to veg-out.

A few minutes later, feeling peaked, I went to the fridge for a cheese stick. As I closed the door, processed cheese in hand I felt something hit my foot. Then I looked up to see A STREAM OF WATER GUSHING FROM THE LIGHT FIXTURE.

My mind raced. I (apparently) dropped my cheese stick in the floor, wondering if a pipe burst. I shut off the lights and yelled 'JOEY!'. Whitney thought I was yelling for no reason, then I told her, "THERE'S WATER COMING FROM THE CEILING". I ran upstairs as fast as I could to find water running in puddles all over the bathroom.

"Wha....You....Wha....?!" Yeah, that's me sputtering.

Joey (in towel): "The sink overflowed"


"I was just trying to get my Dinosaurs to grow." (Aside: Joey has these toy dinosaurs that get bigger when you drop 'em in water)

So, there I am trying to come to terms with my hydro-maniac son who's decided (for the 4th time in a week) that playing with running water is a good idea. My anxiety over a housefire is fading, replaced by my realization that I'll probably have water damage in the upstairs bathroom AND the ceiling drywall in the kitchen.

At that point I told Whitney to deal with Joey. I went downstairs, flipped off the breaker to the lights in the kitchen, and then waited for the water to stop dripping.

Ah, multi-story houses. :-)

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