You may or may not have noticed I shy away from giving direct advice here on Momaste. I may be a neurotic, Type A, know-it-all, bossy, big sister, but I actually don’t like telling people what to do. I don’t like it when people tell me what to do, so I try not to do it to others.
Today, however, I am going to break that tradition and give you a piece of life advice.
If you ever buy a house, during the inspection when they are doing the flow test of all the water in the house, make sure they test the washing machine. Trust me on this one. Just do it.
We all saw the bucket of disgusting water next to the washing machine, and my realtor friend asked about it a couple times. No one seemed troubled by it, and we were told it is not standard to test a washing machine during the inspection.
Imagine our surprise when we got into the house to clean, paint, etc., and just on a whim decided to run the washer on the very small setting to see how it worked, and flooded our basement. Seriously. My husband and I were in our new kitchen with our children, having a snack and being all like, “Hey, look at us in our new house!” when all of a sudden we heard a gushing waterfall in the basement.
Turns out, all the rest of the pipes on that side of the house are backed up and nothing is draining. My husband and I are trying not to stress too much until we get the plumbers in there and find out what it is going to take to fix it.
But really?! WTF!??!
Right now, it seems like our apartment is a clown car that just continues to spew stuff out of it. Or maybe it is like those rapidly reproducing critters from Star Trek. Or maybe it is… oh screw it, you get the point. We have a lot of crap and the moving just seems endless.
We are all feeling frustrated, tired, sore, excited, and terribly anxious.
So, a wee bit of comic relief, such as the following scene, is appreciated.
After a long and stressful day involving the torrent from the washer and a speedily purchased wet-vac, I put chicken nuggets out on plates for the children.
Emily: I want ketchup.
Jack: What’s the magic word?
Emily: Daddy’s big tummy.
Jack: Emily, that is not the magic word.
No, it was not the magic word, but it sure was clever. Because everyone knows you are supposed to laugh in the face of disaster.
That’s advice I will stand by as I watch them dig up my new back yard to fix the damn plumbing.