X

A space time differential

I swear it was like 5 minutes?

My husband is 6’4  his only request when we built our house was a bathtub he could fit in. Every bath in his life involved him having his legs on the wall above the faucets with his knees bent so much he could kiss his  knee caps or give himself a black eye on his knee if he sneezed.  Sort of like us at OBGYN appointments except hike the legs up more and take away those stylish and comfy stirrups.

It takes a LONG time to fill to a respectable level. (floating boob depth)

One evening I  did my routine. Start the tub at  full blast, put in some bubbles & then move the clothes to the dryer, put together a 30 kajjillion piece 3 d jigsaw puzzle,   unload and load the dishwasher,  raise corn from seed to maturity, feed & water the dogs, transcribe the entire phone book into Egyptian hieroglyphics.

I went in to our bathroom and checked the water level, not even 1/4 way there. Still about 20 minutes to go at this rate.

Mistake #1- walking out of the bathroom.

Mistake #2- picking up the laptop

Mistake #3-clicking on someones link to help them kick a cow or milk a fence or whatever it was.

Mistake #4- The FB time space differential. Me being such a FB newbie that I didn’t realize the amount of time it appears you have been on FB is actually 1/30th of the time that has passed you by in the real world.  {ie:  if you feel you have been on facebook for 2 minutes it has actually been 60 minutes, 3 minutes of facebook time =90 minutes  in the real world and so on.}

Mistake #5- not knowing #4, and feeling like I just spent 30 minutes on facebook , realize the tub is still going, so I run toward the master bath to make sure it’s not overflowing.

The rest happened in slow motion.

My fat freckled a$$ skids around the hallway corner on the tile like the dog in the old chuck wagon commercials, prompting  my boobs to bounce me off the hall closet door I had just bashed with my face because you should slow down on curves,  there is NO RUNNING in this house.  Then I hit the Master bedroom hall carpet and it was like the friggin everglade swamps.  Warm, moist and smelling like New Orleans on a hot Sunday morning.  This is a bad thing people because from the Master bedroom Hall Entrance it’s about 5 feet to my Master Bathroom door, that once you enter is another 7 feet to the tub.  Even in Mississippi math that meant water had spread at least 12 ft in that direction.    But whats worse than that?   Flinging open the master bath door and rushing into a few inches of standing water and wiping out on the tile floors you HAD TO HAVE OR YOU WOULD DIE.  (slamming your tail bone on that precious tile and jarring your back so hard you can’t breathe, and you start wondering where you can find one of those cool inflatable butt donuts because you know you wont be able to sit for a month or so)  Oh but baby I can take it a step further on the scale of idiocy. Because MY master closet ( he has his own )  which is about 9×9  ( double the size of my entire bedroom growing up) sits just to the other side of my bathroom which had more water in it than my ankles when I was pregnant and was possibly developing a  tidal phase pattern.

I blocked a lot out, or in therapy talk, “repressed the memory”, either for self preservation or so I could deny my status of epic asshattedness.   But I know I lost all but 1 pair of shoes ( yeah like around 30 pairs were sacrificed to the water gods ( shout out to Osiris, Neptune, Chalchiuhtlatonal, and Poseidon ).  Along with anything else on  MY huge master bedroom closet  floor.  I know we used 2 steam cleaners and 2 shop vacs and 4 people carrying buckets.   I know that my darling Droid  slipped carrying a bucket of mucky sucked up water and it fell back on him like in Americas funniest home videos but you weren’t allowed to laugh because he might be hurt. But the biggest clue we should not laugh was the fact he got back up and then spiked his blackberry on the wet floor and it will still deep enough to make a splash.  I know we had about 5 fans blowing for 3 days to help.  I also know that  to this day,  when you walk into my master bedroom hallway it smells like ditch diggers ass.

It's so easy even a CaveMan could do it.

Hi my name is ThePeachy1 and I am a moron.

XO
PEACH OUT

ThePeachy1: ThePeachy1 has been trolling around the interwebz since we were all in loin cloths with Monochrome TRS 80's. Mainly proud, often befuddled, but always amazed mom of 3 awesome kids and wife to "The" techo guru. When not missing vodka, friends, or wondering why more people don't appreciate the PJ lifestyle she can be found lurking everywhere on the web.