Ol' Skeeter got mad at the faucet tonight. It has always been quite temperamental, that faucet. We've lived in this house for six and a half years, and the faucet has dripped the whole time. Not horrible, just drip-drip-drip. It didn't really bother me. What DID bother me was when it just decided to stop. It would whine -- yes, high-pitched whine -- and suddenly the flow of water was reduced to a trickle. You would have to wiggle the handle just. so. to get it to work properly again. That was quite an annoyance. Thankfully, it didn't happen terribly often, perhaps once a month, possibly less.
Today it did the whiny trickle, and Skeeter attacked it with a vengeance. Oh, he was attempting to fix it, but I think he might have gone at it a bit too vigorously because -- SURPRISE! -- he busted some gasket. Water flowed freely throughout the kitchen. And yes, the laundry room. The laundry room that has been flooded four times in less than a year. That poor laundry room.
Thankfully, I was at work when this occurred because I probably would have had a panic attack. And yelled. I am told that there was quite the tidal wave of water flowing freely from the pipes. So Skeeter did what any man would do when he's in over his head like that. He called the plumber, the guy that worked on his job site and came to fix our laundry woes back on Christmas Eve.
Let me take a moment to note that this occurred on a Sunday. On a Sunday night. He called a plumber on a Sunday night. Not that there was really any way around it, but when he told me, I will admit that I wondered if I needed to sell a kidney or something to pay for it.
Skeeter finds such convenient times to have water woes.
I found out about all of this at 7:30ish, when he told me that the kitchen flooded and the plumber was there. In a text message. I was calm. And patient. I sent him a text message asking him to let me know what happened when he could. I was VERY. PATIENT. Especially for me because I am not a patient person. I waited a whole hour before asking for an update. As in do I only need to sell one kidney, or do I need to put both of them on the market? And WHAT WAS GOING ON IN MY KITCHEN!
Truthfully, I still don't know what really went on. That might be a good thing though. I just know that it's going to cost me $250. But since I kind of like having a working kitchen and an unflooded house, I am not going to complain.
The only other things I really know are that all of the items that were on the counter and underneath the sink are now outside on the picnic table. And that the plumber's parting comments were, "I don't mind being your plumber at all, but I'm taking your plumber's wrench away."
And he did. When he cleaned up his stuff, he took Skeeter's plumber's wrench right along with him.