Life as a poorly written sitcom

My sister-in-law is still improving. The plumbers putty worked. "What plumbers putty" you ask? The putty that Bill had to hurry to buy at Home Depot ten minutes before closing last night. The plumber had just left when Bill discovered that the main clean out (also buried in a cabinet) was leaking. The threads had rusted through.

At 10:00 he cleaned and dried the pipe. He kneaded the putty per directions and applied it. He set up an old hair dryer in the area to help dry out the mess behind the cabinet and dishwasher. Somewhere around 11:15 we tried running water in the sink. No problem. We ran the disposal. Still no problem. I loaded the dishwasher with dishes and ran it. When it looked like it was going to be ok, I went upstairs to get ready for bed. Bill wanted to wait until the cycle was complete. Thankfully, all went well.

I must have fallen instantly asleep. I had the TV on, my glasses were still on and the reading lamp clipped to my headboard was on. When all went off, I woke up with a start. We had just lost power. No storm, just poof! Bill said there was a brown out a few minutes earlier which is why he was still awake downstairs wondering what would happen next.

* sigh *

He set the travel alarm (wind up clock) and we eventually got to sleep. At 5:00 he got the generator hooked up the refrigerator. He showered and was getting dressed when the power came back on at 5:20 this morning. The TV and my reading lamp that had startled me awake when they went off now startled me awake by coming back on.

Bill went downstairs to disconnect the generator and plug the fridge back into the electrical outlet. What next you ask? The smoke detector upstairs went off. Bill fanned the air in front of it to quiet it. Steam from the shower sometimes sets it off now. Back downstairs to finish pushing the refrigerator in place until the smoke detector went off again, signaling the others to blare.

Thinking "shut the hell up" (as I was doing while covering my ears) is an ineffective way to remedy this. Bill shut the bathroom door, fanned the air by the smoke detector, kissed me goodbye and left.

I can only hope he comes back tonight.

This sitcom is brought to you by DTE which does not stand for Detroit Edison. It stands for Doesn't Transport Electricity. It also brought to you by Long Gone, maker of the five networked smoke detectors in our house. The manufacturer is long gone and one single detector cannot be replaced and work with the others. Lastly, in the manner of Sesame Street which is sponsored by letters and numbers, this sitcom is brought to you by the number 159.95 which is the dollar amount of last night's check to the plumber.