The worst thing happened this past Monday. It was the absolute last thing we needed to deal with, and I was exhausted!
No. We didn’t test positive for covid.
No one lost their job.
No, we didn’t get into a car accident.
Actually, our toilet overflowed and then flooded our basement (just the subfloor was flooded as the rest of the living space is raised, thank goodness)!
Mondays are usually a bit difficult. In general, I feel like Mondays are somewhat tough for everyone but for some reason my 2-year-old’s transition from a weekend schedule to a weekday schedule is unpredictable; half the time it ends with a lot of raised voices and tears from all parties involved. I was kind of dreading the daycare pick-up on my way home from work and was trying to psych myself up. All I really wanted to do was come home and get through the evening so I could get to that glass of wine and maybe a handful of dried mangos (it’s my thing as of late).
Needless to say, I was ill-prepared for my husband’s frantic call. The bathroom is completely flooded! It’s flowing into the storage and laundry room! I don’t know what to do! What should I do?! After I calmly explained to my distressed husband that I wasn’t secretly certificated as a professional plumber, I gently urged him to hang up with me and call his uncle who surely would know what to do. The thought of coming home to the sight of water that I am used to seeing in the toilet now on my bathroom floor was dreadful, so I drove home as slowly as I could. Was it unrealistic of me to think it might have been cleaned up by the time I reached home?
Generally when unforeseen circumstances arise, we try to feed Charlotte whatever is easiest just to get through mealtime pain-free and quickly. After all, the wastewater wasn’t going anywhere and my husband needed me to help him fix that situation as soon as possible. So, at a pace that could only be compared to a snail, I “quickly” fixed Charlotte’s
dinner meal of peanut butter toast, a side of cottage cheese, and a healthy handful of blueberries. We then put her in front of the television to distract her while we cleaned up the shit. Okay, there was no visible crap per se; I’m told it was just-flushed toilet water but if ever we had to err on the side of caution, let it be then! I also angrily told him we would no longer be able to accommodate his bathroom escapades unless he either changed his ways or we upgraded our toilets. His decision was a true testament to men, and their ability and willingness to change. He chose to upgrade our toilets.
Thankfully, anything that had any dollar or sentimental value was either salvageable or undamaged. As usual, when this type of rubbish descends upon us, I try to stay positive. It could have been much, much worse; we could’ve contracted covid or lost our jobs or gotten into a car accident. I guess we were the lucky ones here.
I must say, though, I am very upset about having to throw out our wedding gift from my husband’s grandad- an overly bright orange, gaudy, tiger print, fuzzy/plush monstrosity of a blanket. It got slightly damaged (by ‘slightly’ I really mean it touched an item that was touching another item that may have had some water on it). That was a terrible, t-e-r-r-i-b-l-e loss.
And then naturally, I had to accidently break a wine glass (of course) and stub my baby toe on the damn door.
So my question is: was that all a sign, should I have bought a lottery ticket??