I woke up a few days ago hearing a peculiar – but familiar – sound. Water running. Husband had left at 4 a.m. that morning, already heading out on vacation. (I’ll be joining later.) So, clearly either someone else decided to stop by for an impromptu shower upstairs without telling me, or something had to be running somewhere that shouldn’t be.
After finally rising to find out where the river-sounds were coming from, I discovered our garden hose, innocently lying on the back terrace, was spewing out water. It had been left on. And, not for just a little while. This was evidenced by the new backyard swimming pool that had developed. The neighbors got one, too, as the water ran downstream to their backyard.
What’s a girl to do? I just turned it off and went back inside. I figured the water would eventually seep into the ground.
However, apparently the neighbors were not happy with their new reflecting pool, which was rapidly turning into more like a running river. It wasn’t seeping into the ground easily. Not pleased, they called the association president on us. (Why do these things only happen when Husband is out of town?) There I was ironing in my usual morning attire (read: nothing) when I heard banging and found two faces peering in. Awk-ward.
I explained to the neighbor and association president (after putting on clothes, of course) that I had no idea what happened. As they stood in ankle deep water, I apologized nonetheless. Everyone cooled down. The water began to recede ever so slightly. And, I called Husband.
I asked. Ummm, any chance you left the hose running last night? Remember when you went out back to water the grass at 10 p.m. and it was dark? Well, I woke up this morning to our new swimming hole. Neighbors, too. They thought a main pipe had burst underground.”
He laughed.
Husband swore he did not – could not – turn on the garden hose, drop it on the ground, and then walk away. It just wasn’t in his nature to do something so careless. And, ya know what? I agreed with him. It must have been some local prankster (or the gremlins).
Which now brings me to my whole point. I have finally reached the point where I know (at least some) of the things Husband simply would not, could not, do. It’s a strange bit of information to have about someone. But, it comes in handy when neighbors come knocking at 8 in the morning.