water runs deep

i always knew i wanted to marry a strong, confident, ambitious man. i wanted a guy i could always count on to take care of me when i couldn't take care of myself, love me when i didn't love myself, fix stuff in the house when i couldn't didn't want to fix it myself. i wanted a guy i could take anywhere, who could hang with anyone. most of the time the strong-confident-ambitous part is an absolute must.

sometimes it's not.

like yesterday.

the overly confident and overly ambitious side of ty emerged yesterday afternoon. while i was writing a post, sitting in a quiet peaceful house, wyatt asleep soundly upstairs, i heard a sound i never want to hear again. the sound of grinding medal under my house. loud, eery, and unnatural. a sound no homeowner ever wants to hear. i remember that in the same moment i was thinking "yay! wyatt's still sleeping!" i heard the dreaded sound that blasted from our garage. "not anymore", i remember saying out loud as i walked through the door outside. i looked around, thinking for sure i'd see ty with a pressure washer tipped over, or the water heater unplugged in the middle somewhere. nope. nothing there. as i looked ahead, i saw him.

in his 4 runner. puppy heads staring at me from the back window, tow rope tied to the hitch. oh, and a tree down, slung across our drive way.

"what the hell are you doing?" i asked.

"i pulled the tree out," he said.

"something bad just happened," i snapped.

"ya, i pulled the tree down", he reiterated proudly.

"no, something BAD just happened. those roots have to be tied to something under the house. did you not hear that sound!?" i yelled.

"oh f%$#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he shouted.

that's when all hell broke loose. he ran to the garage, absolutely terrified. i've never seen him so freaked out. i ran inside and grabbed the baby monitor and within a few seconds was back outside, to find him buried in water, scrambling to find the knobs to turn it off. and then i knew. the roots were wrapped around the water lines.

"i'm going to f%$#ing kill you!!! i'm going to KILL you!!!!!!!!!!!!!" i screamed.

"i'm sorry, ok!? i'm SORRY ok!?!??!?!?!" he said frantically.

we were a mess. both of us.  i just stood there, seeing dollar signs... "what the f%$# do we do NOW!!!???" 

"call my mom!"

"i'm not calling your MOM!!!!!!!!"

"call my dad!"

"what the hell is he going to do, babe!?! what do weeeee DOOOOOOOO?????? do i call the police!??!?!??! " 

"i DON'T KNOW!!! HELP ME!!!!!" he was desperate. i knew now, we were f'd.

"I'M FROZEN! I'M FROZEN!" i was absolutely freaked out. mortified. pissed. mad. angry.

scared.

"call the city. call 4-1-1, and call and ask for snohomish utilities" - finally, he got his shit together.

i called 4-1-1, and the lady was totally useless. she wanted to talk to me about how she had never heard of snohomish before. i wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. instead, i hung up and ran next door, crying hysterically. lisa and jay are amazing friends. they came outside, and instantly did all they could to help.

i ran inside and looked online and found a water line emergency number and went back outside to find that ty was able to get the water turned off for the most part. it was an absolute disaster in our driveway. a total shit show. neighbors were driving by now, practically stopping to rubber neck. at one point, i told a neighbor to keep driving - "nothing to see here" i said. kids on bikes zoomed by only to turn around and spy on us for their parents, i'm sure.

after a few "i'm sorries" and "we might have to stay in a hotel tonight so we have water" sentences mumbled under his breath, my "mr. fix it" had an update.

"i've got good news and bad news."

this should be good.

"the good news is it's not the water line. the bad news is our sprinkler system is broken."

what a relief.

"the water's back on, babe." the pride shining through his sweaty brow, and dirt encrusted upper lip.

"wanna medal?" 

as if all of this was just what he planned. thank goodness he pulled that tree out. those roots were deep and it could have been so much worse. i really owed him one.

riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

i only had one question,"did you learn some lessons today, babe?"

as i saw humility quickly replace the pride, and that dirt encrusted lip smirk, i knew what was next.

"sure did."

and that was enough for me.

can't you see the humility behind his dirty knees?