It's been two short weeks of wedded bliss. Patrick, ever the selfless man of the house, decided to mow the lawn today. Borrowing his parents' mower (may Patrick's mower rest in peace) was an ordeal in itself, as their car battery (or some other car part) is precariously perched on the brink of death as well.
I noticed, while lounging on the couch watching Netflix movies, that Patrick had been gone an inordinately long time. Around that exact moment, I hear the back door open and he yells, "Sweetie, can you get me a cup?"
Walking out into the backyard with cup in hand, I see him on all fours in the grass- in the dark- scooping dirt and mud out of a massive hole with his bare hands.
Asking if he needed help (expecting an explanation at least), I got only a calm, "honey...some light would be nice."
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| Sad face at Kroger |
Apparently, he had hit a water pipe while mowing and had to shut off the water. Spraying him down with deet and holding my phone light, I felt bad for not being able to help more (I was NOT going to volunteer to scoop mud). In the end, he decided to dump a bag of concrete in the hole..a great idea except we had no water.
Stealing the last of the dogs' water was apparently not a sufficient amount of water so we trekked over to the Kroger at 10pm for some bulk rations. After, of course, wiping Patrick's grass- and mud-caked extremities with a supply of wet naps that even Wild Wings would be impressed by.
It's now the next day and we still haven't been able to turn the water back on (stupid concrete!). Luckily I'm heading back to Charleston tomorrow...Patrick can deal with it!
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