Water, Water Everywhere

by Karen O'Connor

Dear God:

I'm no plumber but I know a leak when I see one. Today while putting back our clean towels in the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom (where my husband shaves) I noticed a puddle of water right in the middle of two stacks of towels.

I turned on the faucet, then looked under the sink again, and sure enough, drip, drip, drip. I showed my husband the spot that was leaking.

"Can you fix this," I asked, "or should I call a plumber?"

"I'll take a look," he said. "First I have to remove the pipe, so it will be awhile before I get to it."

I knew that could mean days or even weeks. So I placed an empty pot on the cabinet floor to catch the water. At least the towels will stay dry, I thought.

A few days later I ran another load of wash. Later while stacking the fresh towels under the sink I noticed the pot was about to overflow with the collected water.

I was a bit annoyed that my husband had not yet started the repair work, and even more annoyed that he had not at least emptied the pot every few hours. "You would think. . . he would at least. . . check it," I said while bending over and carefully removing the pot. One false move and the water would have soaked the entire room.

"I'll empty this thing right now," I said to myself. "No sense in taking it all the way to the kitchen. I'll dump it into the sink...no, not the sink," I yelled, catching myself too late, as the water poured right back into the cabinet and spilled onto the floor!

Lord, was that one of those senior moments I've been hearing so much about? P-l-e-a-s-e...I'm too young for this!

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