I survived Sunday.

Krista White
Aug 23, 2017 · 3 min read

They say bad things come in threes. I think it might be more.

This Sunday was an epic Sunday. My husband and I were joyfully driving home from an out-of-town wedding. Well, to be honest, he was driving. I was nursing a hangover and complaining about everything.

My sister had spent the weekend having her “naked weekend”. Nope, not some strange nudist thing (I asked). It is a weekend where you stay at home all weekend with your toddler, put them in adult underwear (that sounds strange, just regular kids underwear but like not diapers), and teach them how to know when they need to pee.

From the sounds of it this is an awful weekend where you get peed on a lot and have to keep a toddler occupied mostly without the television (the TV apparently makes them little zombies who forget to pee). The naked weekend will likely have its own write-up so I will stop there.

So at the end of her naked weekend not only was the child still not potty trained but her husband got into a fender bender on their street! Needless to say sister was asking me for cases of wine to be delivered to her door.

My husband and I glowed in our non-wrecked, childless car discussing all of the things we would do when we got home. The high points: get ice cream. The lower point: stand up to turn on the TV because we lost that remote. Life can be hard sometimes.

When we got home we took some time to enjoy our newly installed hardwood floors. They had finished installing our floors on Friday but we hadn’t had time to enjoy them. “Just look at all the little knots the wood has,” “Oh look over there that one has such great character.”

I took off my shoes to really get the full effect (yes, we wear our shoes in the house. We are heathens). I walked up the stairs and felt water at my feet. Hmm where could that be… OH SHIT!

HOT WATER HEATER EXPLOSION! CEILING FALLING DOWN! HUSBAND WHERE ARE YOU?!?!

Now, I will pause here and ask all you home building types out there what kind of dumb fucks are you to put TWO 40 Gallon hot water heaters in the attic of a two story house. Now you are going to say something about gravity, but really, WHY!?!

Commence running around madly yelling things like: “I need more towels” and “We have three wrenches with red handles, which one do you want?” and “I need a bucket, no a big bucket, well, that one will do.”

People say that you can tell a lot about a person when they are in crisis. Well, I can tell you this about me, I am not good in a crisis. I have this thing where if I get excited, nervous, surprised, or scared I vomit. I realize that covers like 90% of emotions and yes, I do vomit a lot.

When my husband proposed, he made sure we were somewhere that I could puke. I did. Not on him, but it was in a direction near him. By that time in our relationship he had learned to move quickly. When my sister told me she was pregnant I puked, then she puked, then we both puked. It was kind of awesome and kind of terrible all together.

Back to the story, here I am, ceiling falling, husband working in 125 degree attic, me, puking but totally helping. (editor’s note: Krista does try to help when she is vomiting. It is both as endearing and disgusting as you think.) After hours of draining the water heater (thank you YouTube!) and cleaning up, we finally watched Game of Thrones and got ready for bed. Right as we got into bed and I said the magic words “Alexa, turn off the bedroom lights” we heard “Beep… Beep.” One of the smoke alarms decided to run out of batteries… Life.

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Krista White

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I’m Krista. I work in technology and write about the strange shit that happens to me.

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