Monday, February 06, 2006

 

1000 words = 1 picture

Trust me, you don't want pictures for this.

We have had some problems with the new plumbing (the fact that all of the builders refer to the plumber as "Captain Flood" should have warned us, really). On several occasions, water has been seen dripping through the ceiling. We put pots and pans out to catch the drips, we curse the plumber and we step around the puddles.

So, when the ceiling began to drip again, we were not overly concerned. Newspapers were distributed, a tray was put on top of the cupboard where the worst of the dripping was, and Captain Flood's ears began to burn as we cursed him, his forebears and his descendants.

Then one of the children used the toilet. Suddenly the dripping accelerated. And it was no longer completely clear. Is it my imagination, or do those drips look, well, slightly yellowish?

Yes, the pipe had fallen off the back of the toilet, meaning that it flushed directly onto the ceiling behind the lavatory wall.

And all of this into a kitchen where Helen was busily making sandwiches for school lunches. So busily, that when she needed something from the cupboard beneath the catching tray, she wrenched open the cupboard without a thought. The door caught the bottom of the - now brimming - tray, which tilted suddenly and dispensed its contents. Over the sandwich lady, and indeed the entire kitchen. The little that didn't spill was catapulted into the air when the tray struck the worktop on its way down. The walls were running.

Gentle reader, I must draw a veil over both the painful recriminations and the vile smells....

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