When It Rains...It Pours.

     Yesterday started out wonderfully for me.  I'd informed DH and all who lived with me that it was to be my stitching day, stocked my Netfix list with all of my favorite shows that I could 'view now' on TV while stitching and I was comfy and settled in bed.  Then the dripping started...      Drip...drip...drip..."Oh great!!  The kids left the water on in the sink again."  I thought as I grudgingly put down my Q-snaps and ambled into the bathroom.  The water was off in both the sink and tub.  I stood still and listened.
     Drip...drip...drip..."That sounds like the sink in the kitchen and I am not dealing with that ."  I said to myself heading for the safety of my bed and yelling for DH.

     That was when I heard the words that would change the day as I knew it.  "Oh my God!"  he screamed, "It's raining in the house!"   I listened...and sure enough, the drip had indeed progressed to a running stream.  I put down my stitching and buried myself completely in the covers. 
     I soon discovered that my second guess as to the source of the water had been right...SORT OF.  The water was not coming from the kitchen  sink, but from the ceiling.
"What the hell are they doing up there?"  I thought still hiding.
     It was at that point that DH went out to the neighbors' to find out what was going on.
She told him that she had a leak upstairs and that she had called the complex repairmen to come out.  Thankfully DH called them himself.  As it turned out, she had NOT called and his call was the first they'd heard of the whole affair.
     Meanwhile...The stream was now a river and had spread from the kitchen/dining area to the livingroon and was making its way to the area just above my sofas.  
     I was still hiding.
Until...the arrival of the Police and Fire Rescue who promptly cut all power to the house and declared the place a HAZARD! 
"A HAZARD!"  The words kept repeating in my mind as I sprang from the bed like some sort of demented jack-in-the-box and rooted in my drawers for jeans.  By the time I made my way out of my room; the river was running down the sides of my breakfast bar and various other walls and had soaked the floor outside my bedroom to the point of puddles.
It was at this point that the repairmen arrived.  They had been upstairs and it was 'bad'.
The hot water heater up there had burst and flooded EVERYTHING!
They proceeded to reassure me that they would come and help me after they had handled the mess upstairs.
     While we waited, a strange thing happend.  I went to the bathroom and when I returned my DH was folding the laundry that had come out of the dryer earlier that day.  DH never  folds laundry.
I stood in front of him shocked and speechless for a time before coming back to myself and saying, "I have been trying to get you to fold the laundry for 11 years and all it took was a flood, a forced blackout, the police and the fire department."  He looked up from the pants that he was folding and said, "There was nothing else to do."