Like every jet set family (not), the 12 year old and I flew down to Miami for a long weekend to join my husband, who is on a completely transparent golf boondoggle at a work conference. 12 year old had Friday off for some teacher thing, so at the last minute (because I had forgotten about said day off) I decided to fly down on the Thursday night and come back on Sunday. Us grown-ups had a few dinners, but other than that we walked in the sun and floated around in the world's biggest non-water park pool. (I just made that up but it felt like it.)
Came back Sunday, faffed around for a few hours, watched Downton then retired. It wasn't until this morning, when the shower had been running for about ten minutes, that we realized we had a problem. No hot water. Given that the boy hadn't showered the day before, he was forced to have a cold splashy bath, which I may force upon him again if waking up is a problem!
Long story short, the 13 year old water heater seems to be crumbling all over the place and needs to be replaced. They can come out tomorrow morning - a small miracle in and of itself. I think we can survive another cold water sploosh or perhaps copious amounts of wet wipes. Of course, as is always the way when there's an emergency in the house, the Ball & Chain is not here. I'm a grown up though, so I can take care of things without falling apart. Except I seem to have to take the door off the room where the water heater is. Of course I do.
I also have to move a large weights bench with the weights still hanging on the bar, and shove a treadmill up against a wall. In case it slips your mind, I also have a pretty severe case of sciatica going on right now. Quick text to the strapping college boy, with the promise of a chicken pot pie reward, and all is well though.
And the close shave? The water tank is leaking and the guy who came out said he can't believe there wasn't a gigantic flood on our return.
Phew.