Epilogue (Please) To The Day Of The Snake And The Water: One Hot Mess (Vol. 4)

I sit here, stunned, numb, in disbelief at all the unpleasantly wacky things that have happened in our home this week.

Tuesday, there was this critter, or one very like him:

Yesterday's specimen.

Amongst the toys. In our parlor. Discovered by our three-year-old. If you haven’t already read the happy tale, here it is. (Anybody visiting here from Blythe’s, do check out that post. If you like hot messes, you’ll love Tuesday’s.)

Quickly – before I get to the meat of this post – let me tell you that it has come to my attention that loved ones who read the snake story now no longer want to come to my house. So let me assure you, dear friends and family, that (I think) you have nothing to fear. Ours is a very large, very old house with lots of hiding spaces for critters.

Don’t let that freak you out. Rather, let it give you comfort, because the creepy-crawlies have better places to go than in your path. They have cool, dark, dirt crawl spaces. They have toasty-warm attics. They have cozy spaces in between plaster walls and wooden floors. This dramatic sighting was surely an anomaly. Surely. Or that’s what I’m telling myself. Over and over and over…

Now back to today.

You may hardly have noticed it at the time, but the snake story included a mention of a leak in the pipe that provides water to our house. It was way boring in comparison to the snake, I know.

But this afternoon. Oh, this afternoon…

We’d received a notice that they’d be turning off our water again for an hour or so while they undertook more repairs to the water pipe. Just an hour; no big deal – we wouldn’t even be home at the time.

Yay for play-dates with good friends!

Yay for play-dates with good friends!

A while after we returned home, I used the powder room. And when I flushed the toilet afterward, the thing jumped. The whole flippin’ toilet jumped. With a BANG!

I jumped too. Then I froze and stared as the toilet continued to hiss and sputter a bit.

Hissing and sputtering I get: air in the line. No big deal. But jumping? What in the world makes a toilet do that? (Hmm… could a certain snake have something to do with it? Shudder…) I was shaken, so I called the hubby. He’ll take a look at it when he gets home.

A few hours later, I went upstairs to use the bathroom again. When I flushed the toilet that time, I stood back a bit, wondering if it would jump too. It didn’t. Whew – just a bit of that hissing and sputtering.


Water started pouring out of the tank! Disgusting brown water! (Please let that be brown from the pipes and not brown from – ahem – something else.) I started and stopped. What should I do? Would it stop on its own? No? How much of this disgusting brown water would pour out of the tank and all over my bathroom floor? I’d better do something.

So I took off the lid to grab the chain/bar/whatever-it’s-called thing and WATER STARTED SQUIRTING INTO THE AIR. Out of some straw-looking-thing at the top of the tank, into the air, at the window and its brand-new blinds, and all over my arm.

I was in shock. Water squirting. Out of the toilet. At the window. New blinds. All over my arm. Some spraying up onto my face and clothing. I dropped the bar/chain thingy and held my breath.

It stopped.

It stopped, but there was still disgusting brown toilet water all over my bathroom. And on me.

What to do now? Nothing to do, I suppose, but wash off my arm, walk back downstairs, call the hubby to complain (again), and sit down at the computer to tell you fine folks alllll about it. You’re welcome.

Be sure to head on over to Blythe’s to indulge in more of this week’s hot messes!

Photo 20140522161804

6 thoughts on “Epilogue (Please) To The Day Of The Snake And The Water: One Hot Mess (Vol. 4)

  1. WHAT??!! I hadn’t been by your blog in awhile, which was clearly a mistake. I am in stitches at the jumping toilet – cannot imagination the expression on your face! You should feel like a real adventurer after all this.

    We live in an old house too, so now you have me worried….

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