There was a little excitement at my pad a couple of nights ago. My nine-year-old son, Bubba created a slightly more than minor problem.
It happened during bath time. He took his bath, as usual. But then, about an hour later, something happened. It started raining in our kitchen. I'm talking some serious water coming through the ceiling. My husband arrived from a business trip in time to see it.
"Oh my God," he said as he walked in the door and turned on the light. "What the @!%^& is that?"
I looked up. Water was dripping through the ceiling by the light. "Whoa," I said, completely mortified. "Uh, that just happened. I think it's coming from the upstairs bathroom."
I ran to take a look. I fully expected to see an inch of water on the floor. Although the towels and bath mat were quite damp, there was no tell-tale water to be seen.
"Wake up the boy," my husband ordered.
Poor Bubba was sound asleep, and completely groggy, but I woke him up.
"What happened in the bathroom?" I asked.
Apparently, he had some fun splashing in the bathtub and a lot of water spilled out. It went through the seams around the tub and through our kitchen ceiling. My husband got out the drill and made some more holes in the ceiling. You should've seen the water pour out! It had to be a couple of gallons. So now, ladies and gentlemen, this is what my kitchen ceiling looks like:
Isn't it lovely?