I have one.
Actually... I have two.
Girlfriend and Number 3 are the Power Couple that toddler terrorists worship. I'm sure of it.
The pair of them are pretty much unstoppable together and also, they literally think of every single thing that they can do to terrorize our home.
Like if you can imagine it, they can do it.
So yesterday, we come home from the grocery store and as I'm emptying the groceries, the
Girlfriend's all: "I'm going to brush my teeth. He's going to help me."
I'm like, whatever kid... just give me three minutes to put the food away and don't break anything.
Not five minutes later they are standing in my kitchen, like this:
So, I'm like... ahh... what the fuck happened.
Actually I didn't say that, but I wanted to.
Girlfriend's like... "Number 3 made such a mess! But don't worry, it's mostly just us being wet and not a mess upstairs."
I have no idea why I took that as an acceptable answer, but I did.
So I'm thinking, okay, I'll take some pictures of them like this, and take a video, and we will all have a good chuckle.
So I'm snap-snapping away and they are slipping and sliding all over the floor... and then I hear it:
And then... much faster .....
Drip drip drip dripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdrip
Water was coming out of my ceiling.... and landing smack in the center of my kitchen table.
Like one inch from our chandelier, was a shower... pouring onto our table.
I absolutely had a panic attack at that point, I think I blacked out. I have no clue what happened next except I put Girlfriend in her room and Number 3 in his crib.
I threw some towels on the table and dabbed at the ceiling and dried the bathroom floor (which was flooded with an inch of water)..... my background noise was the kids, screaming and crying from their bedrooms.
Number 3, even though he is a huge freaking terror, is the most sensitive of the kids and hates to be disciplined.
So as I'm picking up entire rolls of toilet paper that they had soaked and thrown into their pond, he is sobbing in the background, "I SORRRYYYYYY!! I SOORRRRRRRYYYY!!"
And, because my life isn't ridiculous enough... before the water war, there had been a small cup of oyster crackers that one of the kids had left upstairs.
So now there's soggy oyster crackers, all over the entire bathroom floor... they were making soup apparently.
As I'm surveying the damage I realize that I haven't yelled at anyone yet, which is kind of amazing.
And then, just as I'm being proud of myself for not losing my cool on the kids for, ultimately just being kids... I start to cry.
It was just one of those days where it seems like, for crying out loud, why cant I just put the freaking groceries away without you trashing our home.
And sometimes I don't want to be the one that has to make excuses for the kids... like, "oh don't worry, it's totally fine, it was an accident that they flooded the bathroom onto the table and it will be totally fine and we probably, might not, maybe wont, have to get OUR FUCKING CEILING RIPPED OUT!"
The panic attack was coming back, clearly.
I call Husband at work, crying... come home, quick, the ceiling, the table, the floor, the kids. Help.
Husband, God love him, he doesn't understand that these things just freaking happen sometimes, he thinks our kids are the only ones that fuck houses UP... so I was preparing myself to be blamed for this somehow.
I hang up on Husband and call my Dad... because that's how I was raised.
If something goes wrong, my sisters and I call our parents. It's just what we do.
So my Dad answers, and let me tell you... he was the freaking opposite of helpful.
I'm all shrieky and panicky telling him everything and do you know what he did?
I'm like DAD! This is not funny!
And he's like, "Ahh, they're good kids."
I'm like Dad.. ARE YOU HIGH? I JUST TOLD YOU THAT THE KIDS FLOODED MY HOUSE! AND WATER IS COMING OUT MY CEILING!!
And he's all: "Well it's not coming out of my ceiling."
Just as my father was finishing up being totally useless and laughing at my flooded house... Husband walked in the door.
He was totally calm.
Thank God, because I was hyperventilating and the kids were still wailing in their rooms.
He helped me clean everything up, surveyed the damage and decided that it would dry in an hour or so.
I was totally shocked at his composure, and was so happy to have a partner that chooses to lose his cool on my off days.
It's never good to have two active lunatics under the same roof, one of them should always rest.
At the end of the day... the ceiling stays, the kids ate lunch with their dad, and even helped dry the bathroom.
Oh and I added an extra bottle of soap in their bathroom... just in case there's a next time, their flood can do double duty.