Not The Favorite
Monday, February 18, 2008
When It Rains
On Friday at 4:38am, the ceiling directly above my side of the bed sprung a leak. And I mean SPRUNG a leak. The damn ceiling was pouring water. ON. ME. I threw some towels down and was yelling “Jesus, Jon wake up the ceiling is leaking!!! Get up!” At least he had the sense to get a laundry bin and use it to catch water. So, I’m standing there wondering what to do next and doesn’t Jon say to me, “Well, guess you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
And Jon calls me this morning to tell me that not only do we have a leak in our bedroom, there are now leaks in our bedroom closet, the living room directly over the coffee table and somewhere in Lauren’s room (he can hear it but it hasn’t leaked through the ceiling tiles yet.) At least we don’t have to pay for repairs, thank god for renting.
I’ll leave you with a conversation I had with Lauren last night.
Me: Do you want me to read you a story?
Me: Are you going to listen to me while I read it?
Me: Then I’m not going to read it.
Me: Ok, fine. I’ll read it but only if you listen to me.
Lauren: No. I’m not going to listen!
Stubborn like mule, she is. And yeah, I still read it to her. I’m such a sucker.