Friday, November 22, 2013

Red Letter Day

"In my professional opinion, I'd say your house has come down with a case of Pain-in-the-ass-itis."

Morning Readers,

I'd like to state, here and now, tea is no substitute for coffee. 

Yeah, I said it.

I'm not trying to split you all into steeping and brewing factions, but lets just say I had to settle for pumpkin flavored leaves for the last two days, and the results were disastrous. You may have even felt the Earth move slightly off its axis, prompted by my head repeatedly banging off the doorway.

On Monday, besides dropping the fact Husband likes to forget to take me on our dates, I mentioned I'm painting the cabinets in the kitchen. One of you sweet Readers asked that I take a picture and show the end result, and seeing as we'll be moving in the next few months or so, showing bits and pieces of the Split level seems like a good idea.

After all, you, my dears, have followed our beloved money pit for so long, don't I owe you a peek before we shove off?

So, yesterday, I dragged out the old Polaroid, searched for some film, and just as I was about to take a picture, a smell so foul wafted from the basement, that I remembered I hadn't actually finished the cabinets and there was a good chance someone had had harpooned a shark and left it to die in the laundry room.

With only tea to bolster me, I wandered downstairs into the stench. "It's not a shark," I breathed loudly.

Which was fortunate because I'd left the Polaroid upstairs. 

Quickly, I glanced around and took in the sewage, banged my head against the doorway, and bellowed up the stairs to the twins, not to open the door because the baby would fall down and kill himself.

Amidst children punching each other, I called the plumber. "Hello, Plumber?"

"No, this is the foundation people."

"Sorry, I randomly call people in my phone that I forgot to save because I, nothing personal here, never want to have to do business with them again."

Another couple tries later, the drain specialist was on his way, which gave the baby time to decide he's having some sort of one year crisis and refused to be put down. (Yes, I could put him down. I could also run around pulling fire alarms and sitting down to enjoy the sound, but, though I've been running on tea lately, I don't totally hate myself yet.)

I threw the door wide. "Welcome to our house. It's falling apart."

"Mrs. Kellerman?"

"Guilty. Now, follow me to the basement, and look out for the children. They bite. Also, before we start, how much will this cost me? This year's Christmas or this year and next year's Christmas?"

"Should only be a hundred fifty for the hour."

*Insert one hour filled with the baby not napping, more children fighting, and me remembering I'd forgotten to buy body wash at the grocery store earlier that morning. The realization I smelled like a lemur who just finished a marathon hit me hard.*

"Mrs. Kellerman?"

"Yes?"

"We're going into overtime."

"Eff."

He shook his head. "Found a bunch of stuff down there. Baby wipes."

"Wipes?"

"You can't flush those."

"You can't? That's how I fill my Saturdays."

"Any idea who did that?"

I motioned to the garage door. "Yeah, I have a hunch it's the kid standing behind you waving a package of them."

"The one standing outside in the rain?"

"They get out the front door sometimes."

After dragging Butch inside and giving everyone a "Don't flush wipes" speech that no one was listening too, I ticked down the very expensive minutes, wrote the check, and made dinner. Husband got home and was briefed, before I realized he looked strange. Relaxed. He was questioned about this.

He shrugged sheepishly, "Oh, I got a off work a little early and got a massage because my back hurt."

"But we were going to do that together as a joint Christmas present."

"Don't worry, we can definitely go again. Why are you looking at me like that?"

What I looked like-------> 


"No, we wont. Because if you keep forgetting me on dates and getting massages while I'm making dinner with a screaming baby hanging off me, I'll move to Borneo before Christmas and assume the name, Countess Katrina Lady St. Helen, so I can't be found."

But don't weep for me. The drains are running clear around the Kellerman house and we're making nachos for dinner. High points abounding.

Until Next Time, Readers!








20 comments:

  1. I'm filled with immediate regret at my flushing of wipes. face-palm.

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    1. I had no idea. The twins put them down there, I just didn't realize wipes could cause such a dire situation. *double face palm*

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  2. As long as your mission to nachos wasn't impeded in any way, you can breathe a sigh of relief (but not inhale the smell of raw sewage.) Oy vey!

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    1. The sewage. Oh, the sewage. It took three plates of nachos to get it out of my mind.

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  3. If/when you & the kids move in with me, please put the baby wipes in the trash can!!

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    1. Noted. Also, would you prefer they get there on Christmas Eve or Christmas day? Or perhaps all of Hanukkah?

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    2. It really doesn't matter. I'll be out of town!!

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  4. While I would love to be your neighbor, I would also hate to be your neighbor.

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    1. Susan, I think my neighbors feel the same way.

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  5. I am so impressed you're able to keep your sense of humor about these things. Just a regular day with my 2 little dudes can seem like it's sucking the life from me. You are doing a great job.

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    1. I never said it isn't sucking the life from me, but I appreciate the vote of confidence more than you know....:)

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  6. You can't run away if you tell him your newly assumed name. Why haven't the camera crews been following you for your own reality show?? I'd actually watch yours. You are just too awesome for mass audiences obviously.

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    1. I'm not sure all the major networks are ready to scare off 80% of their audience. You're right about the name though. I've got other randomly generated monikers ready at the drop of a hat. And the hat? This close to dropping.

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  7. When it rains it pours right. If you can't laugh, you'll cry. And all sorts of other annoying things people say to you in times like this. xo

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    1. I'll take all of those things and offer you a plate of nachos in return, my dear Kathy. All you can do is keep laughing and dodging puddles of sewage.

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  8. You really should buy a lottery ticket for your luck is almost bottomed out. Rebounds should be coming soon! Yea!! You make me scream-snort.

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  9. I'm in love, with you, and your writing. I have to sleep now..please shut down your site so I will stop reading. Thank you kindly, Margo <3

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