Bleh, Water Heater

The Butcher said “Have a nice day, Betsy” and walked out the door. Then he came back in and said, “Um, something’s leaking in the garage.” And I said, “God damn it. Go to work.” Not together. But you know, “God damn it, something’s leaking and someone will have to take care of it and you can’t NOT go to work so it will have to be me so you go to work and I’ll figure out what the fuck to do.”

Which, yes, means basically calling the plumber, but it means calling the plumber and taking the time off work.

When shit like this happens, I seriously don’t know how single or working parents do it. I just have two grown-ups in my house and I find coordinating and arranging this kind of emergency crap to be very stressful.

Hats off to you today, parents.

 

8 thoughts on “Bleh, Water Heater

  1. Yep. A friend was just saying that that’s the real definition of adulthood – not a particular age, or employment, or income, but the point at which, when something goes wrong, you’re the one who has to figure out what the fuck to do.

    I’m in my 40s, and have always been fairly independent, and my father’s been dead for several years. But still, when something like that goes wrong in my house, I have to indulge in a few moments of intense self-pity and wishing that Dad would come fix it for me.

  2. Ha, yeah, I think your friend is right.

    My dad called to gloat about how expensive replacing the water heater was going to be. Not really helpful. My hope is that it’s not the water heater, but a pipe coming into it or out of it.

  3. I thought getting married would mean having someone else do (or at least help with) things like this. Yeah, no. And God help the plumber who dared be here at 2:30 instead of noon–that’s naptime and it shall not be disturbed.

  4. I think early on in our shacking up years I once spent the night at my sister’s house because I was so angry with Greg about when and how to handle a problem with a water heater.

    And so I could have a hot shower in the morning…

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