Who cares if it's raining inside, really?!

Wow. Been a weird holiday, I must say. Sick as a dog for the days up to Christmas. Woke up the day after Xmas with two, not just one, but TWO ear infections. I am sure that I must be the only 27 year old alive that still gets freaking ear infections. It's really lame. Then Jeremy decides he's going to have the worst bout of heart burn in recorded history after STUFFING himself and having one, two, three, four too many Erdingers on Xmas, requiring us to go to the Good Sam ER for the day. Just needed to rule out heart ATTACK and confirm heart BURN. EKG straight. Mission accomplished. Phew. Finally home just before midnight on 12/26 with an Zantac OD'ing husbot, and a two ear-infectioned 27 year old wifey. No showers. No bra all day. Smelling like the lady who was puking in the ER room we shared. We were a hot mess. A hot, post-xmas mess.

Finally, sleep.

THEN we got up Monday, 12/27, for a "normal" day, fingers crossed. Planned on running errands. Spending some gift cards left over from the wedding. Maybe a nice lunch together. But no, the universe had other plans. Really fun ones. After showers and teeth brushing FINALLY (oh I forgot to mention that along with no bra or shower, there was also no teeth brushing on 12/26, too. Hot.). While pouring myself a nice bowl of Raisin Bran and cup of OJ to take my antibiotic with, I hear this 'tick, tick, tick, tick, tick" getting faster and louder downstairs outside of the kitchen. I heard water running upstairs and frantically screamed to Jeremy to stop running the bathroom sink immediately (even though teeth brushing was top of the importance list at that moment), because to my astonishment, the first floor ceiling was about to deluge like the desert rains in the Great Sahara. Then, there it went. Out of the seams of each ceiling tile, streams of water onto one of our favorite wedding gifts, the bamboo rug.

Leaving my Raisin Bran to get soggy like it does so quickly, I ran for towels and for Jeremy. What a mess. And the STENCH. Apparently the drain-o that J put down the sink and tub just before the downpour, not only stunk like all dead in hell, but the acid literally burned holes in the ancient lead pipes heading out of the bathroom (our house was built in the middle of the great depression...hard times = lead pipes).

At this point I just had to laugh. I mean, really.WHAT else could happen. WHAT else could life throw at us during this holiday.

Len the Plumber (AKA "Linda Palmer"... for you, Rachael hehe), stopped by to drill holes in our ceiling and make a huge mess. Chad, his name was. Great guy. We'll surely use him again. One of those salt of the earth types. He congratulated us on our recent marriage and boasted about his 14-year marriage, to a woman you could tell he loved as much that 12/27/10 as he did almost 15 years ago on the day he married her. Too cute. Anyway, he drilled and ripped and tore and glued new pipes and made loud noises that made Goku, our high-anxiety feline, hide for the rest of the day and into the following. Plumbing problem is fixed. Ceiling needs to be replaced, but pipes are A OK. Thanks, Chad.

After we pretty much flipped the F out about our indoor weather system that hit like a mock 5 hurricane, I thought about a woman I had seen at the ER the night before. The 'crash cart' and about 5 nurses and a few doctors went flying into her room after an alarm went off. She was a 'code red', meaning she was dying right then and there. She was maybe 70, if that. It was strange that I thought about that patient while my ceiling was filling with water, but I was glad I did. Life is too short. Who cares if it's raining inside, really!? It's why we have Linda Palmer...I mean Len the Plumber. And anyway, worse could happen --- J could have had a different kind of chest pain, and I could have way worse than two ear infections with medication to heal me. I hope that lady is stable now with family surrounding her recovery. Once again people, life is grand-- even with indoor rain forests, heartburn and ear infections.

Don't you forget it. Glass should always be half-full, ya'll.

P.S. Chad, the Plumber -- if you're reading this. Please come pick up your coat you left. It's sitting on our front porch & it's cold as balls out. You might need it. Thanks. - E & J.