Men...Can't Live with Them, Can't Kill Them
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
So this morning I noticed that the faucet on my patio was leaking. It was drip. It was steady, and you'd never know it, but the amount of water that you lose just from a drip is crazy. I pay close to $300.00 quarterly for water and sewer. The thought of my water bill increasing nagged at me all day. Then I made the mistake of mentioning it to my husband. I simply asked what we were going to do with the leaky faucet.
Do any of you have one of those husbands that know nothing about basic home repair, but think they do? My husband is lucky if he can drive a nail straight into a wall. In the 19 years we've been together, he's never successfully fixed a leak. Something took over him, and he thought he could today.
So he gets a hammer, yeah, a hammer, to break the concrete around the pipe. But he misses, and hits the pipe. Now it's spraying out water, but his solution was to take the hammer, and bust it off. So now water is gushing on the patio. At this point I ask, please hun, call a plumber. His answer was "why? I know how to fix this".
Next idea...go to Home Depot. He's gone forever, and he finally gets home with a copper pipe that has a cap at the end. He hammers it into the pipe in the wall. Then he tells my son to turn on the water. Not only is water still gushing out on the echo, but my kitchen floor becomes the Lake Michigan. So now I'm mopping up water, begging him to call a plumber. He tells me he did although he has not gotten here yet. I have no water...no shower, no ability to wash my hands, wash my dishes, or make coffee in the morning.
Then he has the nerve to ask me, what's wrong? Why am I in a bad mood? If the man weren't 300 pounds, I'd kill him, and dump his body in the Everglades, but I'd have to involve an accessory.