I woke up this morning to the sound of rain falling. Not the sound of it raining outside, but more like the sound of it raining outside your tent when you’re camping.
I got up to investigate. Little Z was naked in the upstairs bathroom, smiling and bouncing up and down. The bathroom was flooded and a pile of wet washcloths sat next to her on the sink. The water was not visibly on.
A check downstairs revealed that it was raining in the kitchen. Water seeped through the ceiling and flooded the kitchen. It was dripping from a dozen places, all around the dark beams which give extra support. I went down to the basement the get a mop and a fan, and discovered to my horror that it was raining in the basement, too.
Little Z successfully flooded three stories.
I told her that this was really, really bad, and she should never use the sink alone again, because this is our house, this is where we live, and now it’s completely flooded.
“We get a different house!”
Oh, man. Innocence is a little much sometimes.
Mopping up, it was still raining. Raining like it does outside when it’s winter in California.
I don’t know how long the showers lasted. I set out all our dishes in the kitchen to catch it up, I set up a fan (from the barn so it instantly got everything in the kitchen dirty), I mopped all I could, and then Little Z and I went off to visit our friends Baxter the Dog and Marsha the Person. Little Z said,
“The doggie will be so happy to see me!” He was.
BAH stayed home with a temperature of 102. I think that, seeing it all through a sickly haze, he didn’t freak out because he was too sick.
Now it’s ten hours later. The rain has stopped. The fever has dropped. The bubble popped? Can’t think of another rhyme that makes sense.
Anyway, there was much muchiness to this day.