This morning, as I was peacefully taking a shower, what should I hear but the whoopin’ and hollerin’ of my lovely wife as she discovered that the drains from our house to the city sewer system had plugged up. When this happens, you see, the effluvia backs up, and presents itself through the floor drain in our basement.
So, roughly half our basement, if not a tad more, was nearly pondlike as the water creeped its way outward from the depression in the floor that holds said drain.
As the situation made itself clear through her strident calls, I turned off the shower (after rinsing the last of some soap suds off myself), and set forth to determine the extent of the damage. Fortunately, my quick-thinking wife and a small cadre of recruits had already performed damage control in the form of heaps of towels thrown mercilessly to drown themselves in our service. This staunched the flow, and sopped up most of the remaining liquid, as the drain ever-so-slowly re-accepted much of the water it had already put out. The plumber will be by this afternoon, no-doubt helped along by us on his quest to [put his kids through college|buy a new car|buy a new house|pay off his dentist].
If it ain’t one thing, it’s another.