By PAT NEWMAN
Staff writer

Substitute “Pat” for “Alexander, and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judith Viorst and you have a good idea of what my Monday was like.

Of course I woke up late after I mistakenly (Hah!) hit the snooze button too hard. Clean out of dog food, I was forced to microwave a couple of Oscar Mayer wieners for the pups.

When I opened the front door I was stunned to see that my yard had been transformed into a rushing river. Water was running everywhere, forcing me to look in the closet for my waders to investigate the source of the flood. At least the fashion police were nowhere in sight when I headed out to the curb in my nightgown and boots.

Sure enough, two little fountains beside the road had erupted into a raging torrent. I ran to the phone, tripping over the dog bowl on my way, and punched in the number for the water company. “Welcome to the Fayette County Water System. Listen carefully our menu options have changed... yadayadayada... for payment locations, press one, for directions, press two, to report a water system outage, press three yadayada... for service calls, stay on the line, press one, for new service, press two, yadayadayda... for all other calls, stay on the line... by now the water has risen another two inches “May I help you?” “Yes, there's a water main break in front of my house. My dogs may be swept away along with my children if you don't get somebody out here quick!”

The water company truck pulled up in front of my house within 15 minutes. Great! “Ma'am we're going to shut the water off,” the crew announced. “Not so great.” A non-flushing toilet is a disaster waiting to happen. We pile in the car and head to Grandma's. Guess what? She's not home. Next best bet,-Chik-Fil-A. Clean bathrooms and hot coffee and biscuits. Alright.

Uh oh. No wallet. Daughter Julia saves the day. “I've got three dollars, Mommy,” she offers. What a wonderful child. After a trip to the restroom, I get in line clutching her pink Spotty Dotty wallet and step up to order. “One large coffee and a cinnamon swirl,” I tell the cashier. “That's $1.67.” I open the wallet to find 21 quetzales. “Do you accept foreign currency?” I ask the cashier. No luck and no coffee.

We return home to find a large tractor digging up the front yard and a trio of workmen peering into a large hole and scratching their heads. This doesn't look good. But miracles do happen and within two hours, the faucets are on and running. On the positive side, I now have a nice seeded patch of lawn and a clean driveway.

The rest of the day was a series of stops and starts involving sopping wet clothes, hat hair, lost keys, lost kids, lost dog, etc.

Like Alexander, I think I'll move to Australia.

Back to the Top of the PageBack to the Weekend Home Page