Here I sit minding my own business, typing out an email to my dear friend Chelle when I suddenly hear a persistent “drip, drip, drip.” The usual suspect is sick as a dog and has not left my side since she woke up at 7am. Our other mess maker has been at school for hours. Something is clearly amiss. I look up to find water dripping from the ceiling.
That is when I remember that I ran bleach water to wash the bathtub & toys in anticipation of finally fixing the cracks that began months ago. I know you are thinking I left the water running—it was my first thought too even though I distinctly recalled turning it off. I dash up the stairs to find I had not gotten that far along in my memory loss. Apparently the crack has just reached catastrophic proportions.
At least it’s bleach water so I shouldn’t have to concern myself with mold in the drywall. I won’t even begin to worry about it bleaching the carpet. The munchkins have destroyed it beyond all recognition already. I only need to worry about the ceiling caving in around us. Well, at least I won’t be here to see it.
I have to go pick up Brenia’s antibiotic. They’re thinking pneumonia since Stacia had it last week, and I’m patting myself on the back for having saved myself a trip to the doctor by having Brenia checked out then. Though, with the way she has been yelling everything today I’m guessing we have an ear problem too. Either way the drugs should kill it by Christmas.
Maybe I’ll come home and the ceiling will dry and be all better. *la, la, la* I can’t hear you!
