It Done Has Come a Flood!

It rained hard at my house this morning, but not enough to cause my kitchen, the morning room and the back hallway to flood. So, why did I find myself using virtually every towel in my house to dam a rising tide and redirect water into my garage? More on that in a moment.

It's quiet around here. The women in the house have taken off for a week at the beach with a gaggle of friends. So, I decided to spend a low-key Saturday working in the yard. Thunderstorms rolled in about 7:30, so that plan didn't work out.

Never one to miss an opportunity to lie around, I made some coffee, grabbed a couple of magazines, opened the windows so I could experience Mother Nature's offering and took a seat on a sofa. I must have been lost in my reading, because the next thing I knew, I hear my alert 17-year-old asking, "Hey, where's all that water coming from?" Without looking up, I answered. "Oh, the rain must be blowing in. I need to close the windows." Then, I looked up and saw the tsunami.

Let me paint a picture for you. Water is essentially rolling into the kitchen. Two chairs in the morning room are in standing water and the sofa I'm enjoying is in imminent danger of wetness. I spring into action. What does my observant companion do? He pours a bowl of cereal! I cannot possibly make this up. Does that sum up a 17-year-old boy right there, or what? My son, my son, I am so very proud!

Something like this has happened to me before. When I was about his age, still living at home. I was awakened abruptly one morning by the sound of my mother shrieking in panic. The water was a little deeper that time, and she was in full freak-out mode. One of the hoses attached to the washing machine had broken, and there was a geyser spewing in the laundry room. Once we turned off the water, we had a huge mess on our hands. Fortunatley, one of us was thinking clearly. We called the fire department. They responded promptly with squeegies and water vacs and helped us clean up. She said, "how did you know to do that?" I said I didn't, but I figured firemen dealt with thousands of gallons of water routinely and maybe they'd have an idea. They did.

Our little crisis this morning didn't rise to that level, but it was of the same origin: a recalcitrant washer. I had a big load of towels going and for some reason, the thing just overflowed. I don't know if there was a clog, or what. I've spent the balance of my day, ironically, washing all the towels I used to clean up the mess.

My 17-year-old helper? He helped himself to a $20 bill from my wallet and went downtown to a guitar festival. Who has time to watch furniture dry?

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