I’ve had nothing to report recently, so today’s post was going to be the recounting of a humiliating experience from my past. However, that will have to wait, as two situations have arisen that require your immediate attention.
Situation 1: The Pit’s house has no hot water. I first noticed this troubling lack of essential heat last night while doing the dishes. As doing dishes dulls the mind, I mentally shrugged and continued on with the evening, until I went to brush my teeth. Cold water hitting delicate enamel promptly jolted me into action though, and I went to report my findings to the proper authorities.
“Baby, there’s something wrong,” I said to The Pit “I think the house has no hot water.” As a male of the species confronted with an unpleasant situation requiring his attention, the first reaction was naturally dismissal. “Travis* gave Calle** a bath earlier, the water just needs some time to warm up again.”
When I pointed out that a) I am not an idiot, and b) there was no hot water an hour earlier when I was doing the dishes, The Pit for the first time looked up from his computer game, and demonstrated the second male reaction to unwelcome news. “Huh” he said.
Giving up, I went upstairs to find Travis, whereupon we went through the whole Calle bath rigmarole yet again. And then we reached the third male strategy of dealing with a displeasing condition. “Let’s see if it fixes itself overnight,” suggested Travis. “If not, I’ll call the landlord tomorrow.”
So there you have it, in classic order, the pattern of male response to disasters, diseases, and disagreeable household tasks:
2) begrudging acknowledgment,
3) hope that whatever it is will go away on it’s own,
4) decision to finally call someone about it
Well, it is now tomorrow, and all three boys in the house have taken cold showers. The landlord has been called, and I am implementing my own strategy for dealing with this unpleasantness: I’m packing up my bathroom stuff and fleeing this house like the sinking ship that it is. I will go and try out the shower at our new apartment.
* One of the roommates.
** The roommate’s smelly smelly dog; marginally less smelly after her hot-water sapping bath.
Situation 2: I either have Lyme disease or have been kidnapped by aliens. The evidence you ask? Well, we have two important points to consider: a) I woke up extremely lethargic this morning* and b) there is a large bump on the back of my neck, right at the base of the skull. Clearly this is evidence of either new and advanced bedroom-invading ticks, or old and advanced bedroom-invading aliens.
The location makes it very inconvenient to examine the evidentiary bump by myself, and this is not the sort of thing one can take to the new neighbors. So until The Pit comes home and implements steps 1 to 3 above, we’re going to consider either scenario Lyme or scenario Aliens. Thoughts?
* Fine fine, that could be normal.
3 years ago