Laundry "Cubby" Baptism

My not-so-old hot water heater sits near my washer and dryer in our laundry cubby, a space too small to be complimented with the title "room." It baptized the floor yesterday. Water everywhere. The *#@!! hot water heater is only eight years old AND we have a water softener. It died much too early.

Twenty minutes before getting the girls from school, I noticed the puddle. I had my typical-Tuesday babysitter lined up last night so that I could make a dent in my Christmas shopping. At least it leaked before I left for the evening.

I am mechanically challenged and intend to stay that way. Carl's grandma, a real spitfire, once advised, "Never let a man know you can do something, because from then on it'll be your job." Truer words I have never heard. My first phone call went to Carl. "What do I do?"

"Well, you could find the shut-off valve and turn off the hot water tank. Or you could find the tool I made to shut off the water to the house."

Struggling NOT to hear him in the wa wa-wa wa wa way Charlie Brown hears his teacher, I replied, "Where's the...what did you call it...shut-off valve?" I didn't want to look for a tool in the maze he calls his shop.

"I don't know. You could call General Services."

Sigh. "What time will you be home. I have a babysitter coming. I've got to get started on my Christmas shopping."

Starting to get annoyed, but trying--unsucessfully--to hide it, Carl replied, "I don't know. Seven? Eight?"

"Fine. I'll handle it." Click.

I called General Services and received instructions for shutting off and draining the hot water tank. I got the shut-off lever to move, left the hot water running in the kitchen sink to drain the tank, herded a screaming Hannah to the Tahoe and went to pick up the girls from school. I live a "Plan B" life.

Later that day I left instructions regarding the hot water heater with the babysitter and left for Joplin. I talked to my dad on the way and determined that I probably did not get the hot water tank shut off all the way. Oh well. I had plenty of towels laid down.

By the time my babysitter called me later that night to tell me my puddle had grown quite large, I knew that Carl was closer to home than I. I left it to him. To his credit, by the time I got home, he had the puddle cleaned up & the water turned off to the water heater.

This morning Carl pulled the lever to turn the water back on so we could run the dishwasher. The lever broke! So he spent another thirty minutes buying and installing a new lever. Thank God my husband is a handyman!

At this point I just have to laugh. I have a huge day tomorrow, for which I had set aside today to pace myself and prepare. We celebrate St. Nicholas Day every December 6, complete with a fancy breakfast served on my grandma's china set with her sterling silver. I'll post pictures tomorrow. In addition, I volunteer on Thursdays at the school, starting between 7:30 and 7:45 a.m. Before tomorrow the china needs washed (hot water, please), the fancy breakfast needs prepped, tonight's supper and tomorrow's lunch need prepped and my house remains in it's usual disaster state, made worse by the fact that Liz didn't clean it this past Monday.

Thinking of the laundry cubby as "baptized" made me realize that maybe my attitude needs baptized, i.e. purified, too. What use are holiday rituals like St. Nicholas Day for us as well as Christmas in general if we spend the entire time frazzled and irritated, screaming at the people we love most and living like martyrs (Why do I have to do everything? Whine whine.). I'm going to go take some pictures of my chaotic laundry cubby to keep along with the pictures I take of tomorrow's celebration. In the meantime, I'll put away my perfectionistic ideals of how this holiday season should look and make a special effort to simply enjoy it--spills and all.

A hot shower would help, though.