taking the passive out of passive-aggressive

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

This afternoon we had a mother of a rainstorm--actually, more like a deluge. I wanted an ark.

In my younger years, a rainstorm would have been an opportunity to wear a white t-shirt and dance around outside, thereby attracting the attention of all boys within eyesight, but nowadays I have more to deal with. My eighty-year-old house leaked like a sieve today, and I didn't know what to do about it.

Back when I worked, I delegated just about everything--from bug-killing to diaper-changing--but now that I'm a SAHM, I'm left with only my inner resources, sweat, and problem-solving ability. All three were in short supply today. The baby was crying upstairs, my older daughter was hungry, and I was standing in a six-inch puddle in the basement with the wet-dry vac, wondering "What now?"

I got most of it cleaned up, and after a while the man came home. His reaction was to buy a giant $200 dehumidifier, as though equipment could solve this problem. The floor is still wet, and I'm just thinking that if I ignore it, it will go away. I simply can't have tht fight again--you know, where you say "why don't you help me out with this" and he says "I've worked my ass off all day" so I've decided to leave it be. What's a little mildew, a little crumbling around the foundation? All things decay and entropy rules. I'm not gonna fight it.


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