After many hits of the snooze button my husband finally drug himself out of bed at 4:30 this morning... He stumbled into the kitchen in an attempt to reach the laundry room to dry his shirts for work. I attempted to fall back to sleep after said snooze fest.
"Neva, get up the house is flooded." He slurred.
I grab my glasses, hike up my too big pajama pants and follow him. I hit the oncoming puddle as I entered the living room. Water flowed out from the laundry room into the kitchen, into dining area, into each closet and started to putter out halfway through the living room. In sleepy stupor I headed to the laundry, my too big pants dragging behind me and wicking water up my leg. I grabbed the flat mop and began pushing water out the back door. I heard something behind me and turned to see my husband swirling a towel around the floor uselessly. WTF?! I go back to my "mopping" figuring he will get it right in a minute when he fully wakes up. I was fully awake as soon as I heard the call, I guess it is my years of practice getting up ten times a night to feed and changes babies and settle nightmares.
We sweep and mop water out the doors, lifting the water soaked 6x10 foot rug and plopping it on the porch. Hubby says, "The neighbors will think we killed someone," looking down at the rolled up rug we just drug acorss the porch. Ha.
We move furniture, pull years of junk out of closets. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Finally the water is barely glistening the tiles. Thank God for the guy who put tile in this part of the house! I mean, seriously- Thank You Jesus!
Hubby starts an air mover which is the compressor from a jumpy house we had a few years back and the girls popped. It is amazing how many times we have used it with flooding. I get a cup of water and some soap ready. I figure now is as good a time as any to clean the floors (hubby thought they were clean enough after the flood- apparently he didn't mind the years of dirt and dust bunnies that had been washed out of every nook and cranny). At last, there is but a bit of water left that we can see. We know there is water in the drywall, under the cabinets and hidden in so many places.
We make coffee and fall exhausted on the couch. We look at each other like "What just happened?!"
Just another day in the life of home-owning, clothes washing parents.