This is how George woke me up this morning while he furiously began to throw on shorts.
This, after I had finally slept peacefully the night before after dealing with a popped si joint that I kicked out of place on Wednesday as I was lifting Zane.
“What?” I had no idea that the rain that had begun last night, had continued throughout the entire night, flooding our street and backing up the drain outside our basement. It was 7:00 am and water was coming in our basement door.
You know what? The si joint mishap was irritating enough. Having it worked on and put back into place by a brilliant PT at Athletico was interesting, and yet, not completely comfortable. Inflaming the area a second time for which I blame my frisky husband, was unfortunate. Put your eyes back in your socket – no cheap thrills here – this is a clean site. George just tried to be all manly by coming home from work and picking me up to swing me around romantically. It was a lovely gesture. Poor timing, but lovely. And thus, it didn’t quite illicit the response George was going for.
I screamed in pain. He apologized. Several times.
Scrapbooking with my cropping gals from 6:30-11:30 last night with a stiff back was fun and took my mind off of the fact that I needed help putting on my pants yesterday and couldn’t pick items off the floor. And upon getting home at midnight, I was just looking forward to snuggling down into bed and sleeping in a bit.
It is now 9:30 PM. The rain only stopped about an hour ago.
We finished, well, George finished ripping up the majority of the carpet and padding in our basement – leaving a few sections that could wait until tomorrow. We then hauled everything outside, mopped, cleaned the couch (as Scout kept running in and out during the process giving the room the delightful aroma of wet dog), AND patched some holes behind the stove in the kitchen, as there has been some activity in that vicinity over the past couple of nights . . . of the small, furry, beady eye variety. Think: “If You Leave a Mouse a Cookie”. As, apparently, I did.
Good thing I don’t let the kids watch TV during the week. They had their fill today. I didn’t bat any eye.
Props go out to our neighbors, who while watching George keep guard at the back door while sitting on a bench with a snow shovel which he used to bail the back up, came and helped us push back the pool of water on our lawn. Then, with the use of a boat pump, we were able to clear the drain.
It wasn’t the Saturday I had intended to have. But, we all worked together. Our basement is fine. The furniture is fine. Nothing damaged other than carpet. We’ll go with area rugs from now on. Several friends of ours weren’t so lucky. Our basement remodel was nothing compared to what I was hearing from others in the area.
In no way do I mean to escalate our minor frustration and hassle to the level of Ike’s wrath.
I have, however, given a name to our little storm.