Wednesday, 28 October 2026

Down To Earth With A Splash! - #part one

The only image I have of the kitchen (2013) 

Readers of yesterday’s blog (A Long Birthday) may remember how on 1st October LD:NorthEast gave me a beautiful bouquet and poem to mark my birthday.  

I had the lovliest evening at the fundraising event and drove home will a full and happy heart.  As I got out of car I heard the gurgling of water and was content that all my boys were having their usual evening bath.
When I got into the house I felt a bit of a breeze blowing through and went into the kitchen to find the backdoor open, Thunderthighs in his pyjamas brushing water out of the door, an inadequately small bathmat in the middle of the floor and a heavy shower coming through the ceiling (fortunately wood panels).
“What happened?”
“Dad’s bath overflowed.”
I went upstairs and discovered that water had crept along the landing almost to the top of the stairs and was seeping underneath the cork tiles in the toilet. 
A bathsheet had been placed on top of the carpet.
When he saw me Fester said “If you stramp on that it will soak the water up”

AND PROCEEDED TO GET INTO THE BATH!!!           

The flooding was bad enough.

Realising he can’t be relied upon to mind the boys and house made it worse.
But the attitude of “now she’s back she can deal with it” put the tin hat on it.
I was enraged beyond speech, said nothing, went back downstairs and questioned Thunderthighs further, as gently as I could because too much pressure and he’d have clammed up.

“I had my bath, well shower actually, then I ran Ferretfingers’ bath and when he’d finished I told him to tell Dad I was running his bath.”

Which might just have worked in some households.
However Ferretfingers' autism is mainly a communication disorder, giving him a verbal message to pass on is as much use as carrying sand in a sieve.

I don’t really blame Thunderthighs, even though he should have known better.

Had his father been paying any attention then he might have noticed the toing and froing, heard the taps running and maybe gone and investigated before the overflow.
He is supposed to be my partner in caring for them.
Later, when I could control myself enough to enquire in a civilised manner why he’d got into the bath immediately on my return his reply was 
“Well I’d just spent three quarters of an hour sorting things out.”
Which ‘sorting out’ stopped as soon as the grown up entered the house.
The answer wasn’t meant to placate me, which was good, because it didn’t.

Anyhoo

Back in kitchen I suggested to Thunderthighs that he should take up and wring out the bathmat and put down newspaper.

He picked up a newspaper and proceeded to lay down single sheets in a fey manner that put me in mind of the Rite of Spring.
“Noooo Thund.  Put whole newspapers down.  We’ve plenty of them.  Leave them down overnight so they’ll catch all the drips.  You can take them up tomorrow morning and put them in the bin.”
I went up to bed and to start packing for my weekend with the Coven.
 
In the morning the floor was cleaner than it’s been in a long time.
The lights were working although the track was making spitting noises.
“While I’m away get the hairdryer onto that” I instructed Thunderthighs.
When I reached down my travel mug from the top of the cupboard the lid splashed cold water onto me.
“While I’m away” I said to Fester “get everything down off the top of the cupboards and dry them off.”
“Nothing up there will have got wet” he demurred.
Rather than ask him why he thought that, if there was water coming through the rest of the ceiling the foot and a bit over the cupboards would remain miraculously dry, I took down the other travel mug and flung the water that had gathered in its lid at him.

Some friends may believe he got off lightly not having a whole lot more flung at him.

“Everything needs to come off and get dried; and try to put everything back where it was" I instructed through gritted teeth "Get Thunderthighs to take everything down, wipe the shelf and put stuff back where he found it.  He’s got the height.  The last thing I need is you falling off the stool and breaking a hip. “

Mrs Eft arrived and off we went to Warwick where I had a lovely weekend with old friends.

More tomorrow

See also https://bentonbag.blogspot.com/2017/12/apres-mois-la-deluge.html

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