Opinion: Holiday memories

0

Two phrases you never want to hear around the holidays are “The toilet is overflowing” and “The tree just fell over.” Luckily for your entertainment, both were uttered in my household recently. Enjoy!

I was already at work, trying to get settled for the day, when I received a frantic phone call from my husband Doo. “Get. Home. NOW.” Huh? He went on to explain, quite hysterically I might add, how he was in the midst of sopping up run over from our main floor commode but had an eight-o’clock meeting he simply could not miss. During our terse conversation, all hell broke loose when the potty literally erupted like Old Faithful. I could only imagine the scene: Doo in his dress slacks and button-down shoving his hands to block the geyser of filth attempting to drown him and the rest of our poor bathroom while shouting obscenities over the phone. Needless to say, he hung up with some additional solid cursing and a “You’ll have to take the day off. I’m out.”

Momma to the rescue! I organized a substitute (or rather had our secretary; I hadn’t the slightest idea how to find someone on such short notice!), jumped in the van, called the plumber (who of course couldn’t be there until noon and maybe not until five) and arrived back at the house to find 13 soaked beach towels and a thankfully now-draining john. (Later I discovered a leak into our finished basement but by that point there was nothing to do but lay more towels and sanitize with Lysol.) When the plumber finally took a look-see (at 2:30 p.m. by the way), of course he couldn’t find anything out of sorts: “You definitely had a blockage but it seems to have cleared itself, ma’am.” No schnitzel, Sherlock! A whole day wasted to learn nothing but the obvious. Good times, go-od times.

Then the following afternoon, on my way home, my middle son calls and announces quite casually, “Ugh, the Christmas tree just fell over.” The 13-foot, real Douglas fir fully-decorated with large, fire-hazard lights and hundreds of sentimental fragile ornaments? Yes, that one. Glockenspiel! How many disasters can a gal take? When I walked through the door, I saw our entire family room littered with shards of wood and glass, pine needles, and of course, a huge conifer laid out on the sofa. I wanted to cry, such was the sad sight, but instead, posted a picture entitled “Timmmberrr!” to Facebook. Misery does love company.

Life happens, my friends, and usually when you least expect it. I hope you were able to make some holiday memories for yourself, but with much less mess!

Peace out.

Share.

Opinion: Holiday memories

0

Two phrases you never want to hear around the holidays are “The toilet is overflowing” and “The tree just fell over.” Luckily for your entertainment, both were uttered in my household recently. Enjoy!

I was already at work, trying to get settled for the day, when I received a frantic phone call from my husband Doo. “Get. Home. NOW.” Huh? He went on to explain, quite hysterically I might add, how he was in the midst of sopping up run over from our main floor commode but had an eight-o’clock meeting he simply could not miss. During our terse conversation, all hell broke loose when the potty literally erupted like Old Faithful. I could only imagine the scene: Doo in his dress slacks and button-down shoving his hands to block the geyser of filth attempting to drown him and the rest of our poor bathroom while shouting obscenities over the phone. Needless to say, he hung up with some additional solid cursing and a “You’ll have to take the day off. I’m out.”

Momma to the rescue! I organized a substitute (or rather had our secretary; I hadn’t the slightest idea how to find someone on such short notice!), jumped in the van, called the plumber (who of course couldn’t be there until noon and maybe not until five) and arrived back at the house to find 13 soaked beach towels and a thankfully now-draining john. (Later I discovered a leak into our finished basement but by that point there was nothing to do but lay more towels and sanitize with Lysol.) When the plumber finally took a look-see (at 2:30 p.m. by the way), of course he couldn’t find anything out of sorts: “You definitely had a blockage but it seems to have cleared itself, ma’am.” No schnitzel, Sherlock! A whole day wasted to learn nothing but the obvious. Good times, go-od times.

Then the following afternoon, on my way home, my middle son calls and announces quite casually, “Ugh, the Christmas tree just fell over.” The 13-foot, real Douglas fir fully-decorated with large, fire-hazard lights and hundreds of sentimental fragile ornaments? Yes, that one. Glockenspiel! How many disasters can a gal take? When I walked through the door, I saw our entire family room littered with shards of wood and glass, pine needles, and of course, a huge conifer laid out on the sofa. I wanted to cry, such was the sad sight, but instead, posted a picture entitled “Timmmberrr!” to Facebook. Misery does love company.

Life happens, my friends, and usually when you least expect it. I hope you were able to make some holiday memories for yourself, but with much less mess!

Peace out.

Share.

Opinion: Holiday memories

0

Two phrases you never want to hear around the holidays are “The toilet is overflowing” and “The tree just fell over.” Luckily for your entertainment, both were uttered in my household recently. Enjoy!

I was already at work, trying to get settled for the day, when I received a frantic phone call from my husband Doo. “Get. Home. NOW.” Huh? He went on to explain, quite hysterically I might add, how he was in the midst of sopping up run over from our main floor commode but had an eight-o’clock meeting he simply could not miss. During our terse conversation, all hell broke loose when the potty literally erupted like Old Faithful. I could only imagine the scene: Doo in his dress slacks and button-down shoving his hands to block the geyser of filth attempting to drown him and the rest of our poor bathroom while shouting obscenities over the phone. Needless to say, he hung up with some additional solid cursing and a “You’ll have to take the day off. I’m out.”

Momma to the rescue! I organized a substitute (or rather had our secretary; I hadn’t the slightest idea how to find someone on such short notice!), jumped in the van, called the plumber (who of course couldn’t be there until noon and maybe not until five) and arrived back at the house to find 13 soaked beach towels and a thankfully now-draining john. (Later I discovered a leak into our finished basement but by that point there was nothing to do but lay more towels and sanitize with Lysol.) When the plumber finally took a look-see (at 2:30 p.m. by the way), of course he couldn’t find anything out of sorts: “You definitely had a blockage but it seems to have cleared itself, ma’am.” No schnitzel, Sherlock! A whole day wasted to learn nothing but the obvious. Good times, go-od times.

Then the following afternoon, on my way home, my middle son calls and announces quite casually, “Ugh, the Christmas tree just fell over.” The 13-foot, real Douglas fir fully-decorated with large, fire-hazard lights and hundreds of sentimental fragile ornaments? Yes, that one. Glockenspiel! How many disasters can a gal take? When I walked through the door, I saw our entire family room littered with shards of wood and glass, pine needles, and of course, a huge conifer laid out on the sofa. I wanted to cry, such was the sad sight, but instead, posted a picture entitled “Timmmberrr!” to Facebook. Misery does love company.

Life happens, my friends, and usually when you least expect it. I hope you were able to make some holiday memories for yourself, but with much less mess!

Peace out.

Share.

Opinion: Holiday memories

0

Two phrases you never want to hear around the holidays are “The toilet is overflowing” and “The tree just fell over.” Luckily for your entertainment, both were uttered in my household recently. Enjoy!

I was already at work, trying to get settled for the day, when I received a frantic phone call from my husband Doo. “Get. Home. NOW.” Huh? He went on to explain, quite hysterically I might add, how he was in the midst of sopping up run over from our main floor commode but had an eight-o’clock meeting he simply could not miss. During our terse conversation, all hell broke loose when the potty literally erupted like Old Faithful. I could only imagine the scene: Doo in his dress slacks and button-down shoving his hands to block the geyser of filth attempting to drown him and the rest of our poor bathroom while shouting obscenities over the phone. Needless to say, he hung up with some additional solid cursing and a “You’ll have to take the day off. I’m out.”

Momma to the rescue! I organized a substitute (or rather had our secretary; I hadn’t the slightest idea how to find someone on such short notice!), jumped in the van, called the plumber (who of course couldn’t be there until noon and maybe not until five) and arrived back at the house to find 13 soaked beach towels and a thankfully now-draining john. (Later I discovered a leak into our finished basement but by that point there was nothing to do but lay more towels and sanitize with Lysol.) When the plumber finally took a look-see (at 2:30 p.m. by the way), of course he couldn’t find anything out of sorts: “You definitely had a blockage but it seems to have cleared itself, ma’am.” No schnitzel, Sherlock! A whole day wasted to learn nothing but the obvious. Good times, go-od times.

Then the following afternoon, on my way home, my middle son calls and announces quite casually, “Ugh, the Christmas tree just fell over.” The 13-foot, real Douglas fir fully-decorated with large, fire-hazard lights and hundreds of sentimental fragile ornaments? Yes, that one. Glockenspiel! How many disasters can a gal take? When I walked through the door, I saw our entire family room littered with shards of wood and glass, pine needles, and of course, a huge conifer laid out on the sofa. I wanted to cry, such was the sad sight, but instead, posted a picture entitled “Timmmberrr!” to Facebook. Misery does love company.

Life happens, my friends, and usually when you least expect it. I hope you were able to make some holiday memories for yourself, but with much less mess!

Peace out.

Share.