My husband, "The Droid", is a very tall man and skinny. Sort of like a grey haired stick man. He grew up with very little. VERY little. When we got married we had NOTHING, not even a car. ( yeah I know). So everything we have, we worked our butts off to get. We built this house and it was completed 14 months before Katrina came along. ( I really hate hurricanes, they suck) My husband didn't care about brick color, types of shingles, shutter styles or even what kind of flooring we had. He did however say. I have always dreamed of having a tub I could fit in. Why? Imagine that every bath he has ever taken involved him have his legs on the wall above the faucets with his knees bent so much he could kiss his knee caps or give himself a black eye on his knee if he sneezed. Sort of like us at OBGYN appointments except hike the legs up more and take away those stylish and comfy stirrups. So I had my contractor put in a tub that is HUGE, really huge, and it has jets and lives in our Master Bathroom.
It has not only become his place of solitude and his library but he ONLY takes baths since he finally fits in a tub. He is happy. I am happy because he is happy. The prince used to snorkel in our tub, it's that big. This tub also completely empties our downstairs hot water heater and takes a LONG LONG time to fill to a respectable level. ( what I call, the floating boob water level)
So April of 2009 my medical issues are getting worse and by May the Dr's have told me what's up and pretty much to stop work ( not in that order of course). So May of 2009, I am feeling all isolated and lonely and needing social interaction
before I go around stabbing people with cooked spaghetti
and suffering cabin fever. I join facebook after getting a billion requests from my friends telling me it's so cool but before I had been just too busy with work, kids, work, and you know kids. I have never owned a fancy phone that
required any knowledge allowed me to be all " cool", and had never even sent or received a text message, let alone {gasp} browse the web. I quickly got addicted to all things Face Book. Finding elementary school friends, to college friends, making new friends and experiencing the entire 6 degrees of separation thing first hand.
So one evening I went in and did my routine.
Start the tub at almost full blast, put in some bubbles, then move the clothes from the washer and dryer,
put together a 30 kajjillion piece 3 d jigsaw puzzle, unload and load the dishwasher,
raise corn from seed to maturity feed and water the dogs,
transcribe the entire phone book into Egyptian hieroglyphics.
So after I finished those quick little tasks, I went in to our bathroom and checked the water level. wow not even 1/4 way there. Still about 20 minutes to go at this rate.
Mistake #1- walking out of the bathroom.
Mistake #2- picking up the laptop
Mistake #3- logging on to facebook
Mistake #4- clicking on someones link to help them kick a cow or milk a fence or whatever it was.
Mistake #5- The FB time space differential. Me being such a FB newbie that I didn't realize the amount of time it appears you have been on FB is actually 1/30th of the time that has passed you by in the real world. {ie: if you feel you have been on facebook for 2 minutes it has actually been 60 minutes, 3 minutes of facebook time =90 minutes in the real world and so on.}
Mistake #6- not knowing #5, and feeling like I just spent 30 minutes on facebook , realize the tub is still going, so I run toward the master bath to make sure it's not overflowing.
The rest happened in slow motion.
My fat freckled a$$ skids around the hallway corner on the tile like the dog in the old chuck wagon commercials, prompting my boobs to bounce me off the hall closet door I had just bashed with my face because you should slow down on curves, and there is NO RUNNING in this house. Then I hit the Master bedroom hall carpet and it was like the friggin everglade swamps. Warm, moist and smelling like New Orleans on a hot Sunday morning. This is a really bad thing people because from the Master bedroom Hall Entrance it's about 5 feet to my Master Bathroom door, that once you enter is another 7 feet to the tub. Even in Mississippi math that meant water had spread at least 12 feet in that direction. Not good. But whats worse than that? Flinging open the master bath door and rushing into a few inches of standing water and wiping out on the tile floors you HAD TO HAVE OR YOU WOULD DIE. (slamming your tail bone on that precious tile and jarring your back so hard you can't breathe, and you start wondering where you can find one of those cool inflatable butt donuts because you know you wont be able to sit for a month or so) Oh but baby I can take it a step further on the scale of idiocy. Because MY master closet ( he has his own ) which is about 9x9 ( double the size of my entire bedroom growing up) sits just to the other side of my bathroom which had more water in it than my ankles when I was pregnant and was possibly developing a tidal phase pattern.
I think I blocked a lot out, or in therapy talk, "repressed the memory", either for self preservation or so I could deny my status of epic asshattedness. But I know I lost all but 1 pair of shoes ( yeah like around 30 pairs were sacrificed to the water gods ( shout out to Osiris, Neptune,
Chalchiuhtlatonal, and
Poseidon ). Along with anything else on MY huge master bedroom closet floor. I know we used 2 steam cleaners and 2 shop vacs and 4 people carrying buckets. I know that my darling Droid slipped carrying a bucket of mucky sucked up water and it fell back on him like in Americas funniest home videos but you weren't allowed to laugh because he might be hurt. But the biggest clue we should not laugh was the fact he got back up and then spiked his blackberry on the wet floor and it will still deep enough to make a splash. I know we had about 5 fans blowing for 3 days to help. I also know that to this day, when you walk into my master bedroom hallway it smells like ditch diggers ass.
"It's so easy even a CaveMan could do it."
Hi my name is ThePeachy1 and I am a moron.
Hope this makes you feel better about today...
xoxo
PEACH OUT...