Our sh*tty morning technically started yesterday when we discovered a weird wet spot in the middle of the carpet in our walk in closet. My brain went straight into denial, trying to convince myself that there’s a perfectly good reason that there would be a 5″ wet circle in the middle of the closet. My automatic assumption was that it was cat related (click here for a detailed account of our cat pee issues.) So I gave it a good spritzing of Nature’s Miracle, toweled it up and went on with my day.
Somewhere later in the afternoon, part of my ‘rational’ brain decided to remind my ‘denial’ brain about this:
Rational Brain: Hmmm….could this mystery carpet moisture have anything to do with the mystery smell in the closet?
Denial Brain: If we close the closet door, the spot disappears!
Apparently my husband also has a larger than average denial brain too because we went about our evening successfully forgetting about our little issue until about 11pm, when we were forced to continually step over said spot while getting ready for bed.
His rational brain suggested pulling back the carpet (oh hush, just close the door and it goes away!) and of course, we discovered a nice little arc of water damage radiating from our shower. (If we just don’t shower anymore, the puddle will go away, now close that door.)
So our rational brains pulled back the carpet and pads, set up a collection of fans and went to bed.
Husband had a morning flight to NY, so he’s running about trying to get ready, I’m running around trying to get the kids ready for school and in an effort to avoid having one of the cats actually go pee in the closet (have I mentioned that our cats have a little pee problem?) my husband wisely closed the main bathroom door.
Fast forward 5 minutes when I come rushing in to get dressed so I can take the kids to school and the door is locked. Is my husband in there? No, he’s right there standing next to me. Have the cats locked us in so they have have a pee party all over our shoes and laundry? No. One of the kids must have been playing with the button lock on the door knob so when he closed it, it locked us out.
No problem, you just get a skewer and poke it in through the little doorknob hole and pop it out. Voila….right?
What kind of $%&^#$%@#% makes a doorknob for a bathroom without a friggin hole? Seriously, I could have a toddler in there eating bottles of aspirin.
So, our doorknob still does not have a hole, but what it does have is a giant patch of duct tape to cover up all the sharp metal edges that were formed as my husband forcibly removed it with a screwdriver and this slap bracelet.
A mere 15 minutes later, we were back in the bathroom, good as new (except of course the doorknob and the slap bracelet…and the shower….and the closet floor…..)
So, in response to my October 11 Facebook post: Husband is back in New York, I have identified the source of the smell in our closet, and I definitely deserve another Mommy-rita.
Find out what happened next at “Who Needs A Shower Anyway?”
I think I’m going to go to my happy place for a while with this cute goat. Come get me when the floor is dry.