Friday, March 02, 2007

Good thing my vacuum sucks...

Got dressed, did my hair this morning (looking pretty good, KAT!) and ready to go out the door. Molly, want to come to work with Mom? Got my keys, here’s my phone. What did the Pretend Husband ask me to do before leaving? Oh right, check the basement to make sure none of the torrential rain has made it inside. Look out the window as I walk to the basement door and wonder why two ducks, two panda bears and two monkeys are marching across the yard. Didn't I read somewhere about rain and pairs of animals and... whatever, must check the basement.

Open the basement door, walk down three steps… oh no. What is that dark spot at the bottom of the steps? Begrudgingly walk down a few more stairs to find water almost everywhere. A puddle here, just a little dampness there, bone dry over there. No rhyme or reason (or source that I could find).

Run back upstairs. What should I do? My first instinct is to call the landlord, but– duh– this is my problem now. Call the PH and his dad, who lives four minutes away, and then wade back into the basement for a morning of moving furniture around, rolling up the carpeting and putting our new wet/dry vac to good use (I can now attest for both its wet and dry powers. Best money ever spent!)

I wish I thought to take a picture... not of the basement, but of my attire. While cleaning up down there, I thought to roll my jeans up over my ankles. Except I was wearing socks and sneakers. So it's not like my pants were going to get wet in the less than half an inch of water if I didn't roll them. And if they did, my socks and sneakers would have gotten soaked too. But I guess there's just something about a flood that makes you roll your pants (or is it just me?) Next week, tune in as I curl my bangs to clean the house!

Before I make it sound too serious, the carpeting that got wet was the pink stuff we took out of the living room. We can live without it in the basement just as easily as not having it in the living room. So that wasn’t a loss. And, unlike a flood at my parents’ house when I moved there after college, nothing was damaged this time. I guess I’m getting better about not storing books, irreplaceable photos and other mementos in possible flood zones.

The PH assures me this was a freak occurrence and only happened because of the massive amount of rain we got on top of the frozen ground (the radio newsman this morning was telling people to stay home because of all the roads that are flooded). He promises we will not have a wet basement every time it rains (and he’s probably right because it has rained since we moved in and there wasn’t a problem). But just in case, I’m keeping the PFIL (Pretend Father in Law) on speed dial.

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