The Old Man is Snoring

I was looking forward to this weekend off.  I needed a break, and needed some time to just hang out with my small girl. 

As of right now, Mea knows that my Mom is sick, but I haven’t really said much past this.  I know that I need to.  I have looked at a few books online, and am trying to put myself together so that I can talk to her about everything related to what is going on with Nana.  Any advice, links, titles of books would be appreciated. 

I know that she is struggling with even the idea of sick.

I am sure that she knows that it is much more than just “sick.”  She has seen me cry, she has heard things that I have been trying very hard for her not to hear.  She has been a little funny in the last week.  Slightly more clingy than usual, quick to be mad or angry.  Just not quite her normal little bubbly self. 

My plan was to take her to get manicures on Saturday morning.  We needed to take her braids out, and she needed to take a bath.  Taking the braids out is a bit of an undertaking.  It takes some time.  With the extensions in it took about an hour and a half to take them out.  We started around nine.  My Mom called me with the unexpected insurance news around 10.  I was on the phone with her for an hour or so, trying to think through what else we could do, what I could do to save them some money, etc.

She then started talking about her will.  She needs to have it redone.  She started talking to me about different things that she would like to happen after she is gone.  Having all the girls wear her blue diamond earrings during their weddings.  Something blue, her favorite color.  Different things she wants to give to each of us, or things for us to do for the girls as they grow up.

After talking her down a bit, I was able to get off the phone.  Finished taking out Mea’s hair.  Got us in the shower, dressed, etc. so we could still go get our manicures.  We had a fun time, the lady at the nail salon spoiled Mea and painted flowers on each of her fingers.  So cute.

We ran to Target and grabbed a few things that we needed.  Came home to relax a bit, and then Mack and her boyfriend stopped over to visit for a while.  She had come into town from Yellow State City, to bring my Mom some scarves that she had hand-dyed in her textiles class last year.  My Mom was especially touched by those.

They left and I ordered us a pizza, my husband started doing the dishes.  My housework has slipped in the last week and a half.  The house kind of looks like a bomb went off in it. 

Then, more or less, a bomb did go off in it.

As R was doing the dishes, I heard the toilet gurgle.  Then I heard raining.  The skies were clear.  Poked my head down the basement stairs, and there was water just pouring down from the ceiling. 

He stopped the water, came down to help me mop up the ten or so gallons of water that ended up on our basement floor.  Turns out that a pipe, that all the waste water runs through, (kitchen sink, bathroom sink, shower, maybe the toilet) rusted out and busted.

A pipe that is threaded on either side to screw into the other pipes.  The threaded parts are still attached somewhat to the other two pipes.  I am pretty handy with a wrench, screw driver, and hammer, but there are some things that should be left to a professional.  Plumbing is one of them. 

Dishes are still left in the sink.  Washed my hair in a bucket of water this morning.*  Then R said when he was getting ready for work after Mea and I left today that when he flushed the toilet everything backed up into the bathtub.

We are screwed.  Or rather, the pipe is unscrewed.

I am really hoping and praying that this is an easy and cheap fix when the plumber comes today. 

We cannot have anymore rain in our basement.


*I am an idiot.  We have a shower in the basement.  I completely forgot about it, until I had been at work for about two hours this morning.  The water in the basement isn’t tied to the broken pipe.  SMH.


One Comment on “The Old Man is Snoring”

  1. Jen says:

    Oh dear goodness, don’t get me started on plumbing woes. But, I feel you. I would have forgotten the bathroom downstairs if P hadn’t reminded me it was there the other day when I was trying to figure out where I was going to get ready in the mornings because we had to move out of our bathroom. *rolls eyes*

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