Yesterday, I picked up some of Andi's dirty clothes on the floor by the downstairs bathroom and squish... the carpet beneath my bare feet was wet. Hmmm? I shrugged it off and figured Tory probably dumped some water on the floor while I was doing laundry in the next room. About 20 minutes later, I walked by again to put away some bathroom towels and noticed the carpet was really wet. I investigated further. The carpet in the office nearby was drenched. CRAP.
I hate, hate, hate these situations because I never know what to do. I looked around for water spots on the ceiling and felt the walls and windows for wetness. I couldn't tell where the source of the water was coming from. I called Andi and he tried to talk me through some problem-solving measures over the phone. See, my problem is that I always underestimate the issue. "Do I need to run out and buy a dehumidifier?" I asked him. "Sounds like a bigger issue," he thought. And it was.
Andi called a clean-up company that handles water damage. The damage estimator immediately found the culprit of the water leakage. A pipe located on an exterior wall, attached to our backyard water spigot, cracked and water had been slowly leaking into the basement for some time. The inside of the walls were soaked and of course, the carpet. I unhappily cancelled my afternoon babysitter and with it, my only chance at some mommy alone-time this week, and gave permission for the clean-up team to descent upon my house. The crew went to work quickly in ripping up the carpet and cutting away the wet insulation and drywall.
The head clean-up crew guy told me he shut off the water and I needed to call a plumber right away to fix the leak. Ahem. I needed to call a plumber? Great. What do I even say? I despise interacting with men in this situation because as nice as they are (and these guys were very sweet), I have no idea what they're saying, do not understand a word of the report-out about the work they've accomplished and the entire time they're talking, I'm solely focused on remembering enough details to recite it all back to Andi.
|Hoses everywhere and carpet ripped up from the floor downstairs|
|Tory watching the men work out the window|
Tory, Chloe and I were quarantined to the playroom to avoid all the sharp objects and men working
|Dryers airing out the water-soaked office|
Now that I'm the "household manager," Andi is shifting responsibilities like this to me. I understand it, but I don't like it. He's obviously very busy at work and I'm here at home so it makes sense for me to handle issues like this, but GAHHHH.
On top of it all, our power went out this morning for AN ENTIRE HOUR during breakfast-time, which made slopping some food together for Tory a bit challenging. She was very displeased with the yogurt and banana I provided her (clearly a first world problem for Miss Tory Bean, the tantruming toddler) and did not enjoy eating her breakfast by the light of the window.
When the power returned and I was finally able to brew myself a cup of coffee from our Keurig, the dang thing had technical difficulties. I wanted to call Andi at work, I really did, but I went online instead and read through some troubleshooting suggestions on the Keurig website. I cleaned our machine, just as the website suggested, and BAM! the coffee maker is working again. I saved the day and I was able to have my morning coffee, finally. Maybe I am capable of the duties required as Household Manager.