Thousand Dollar Grace

Today is Labor Day. Truly, this past week, every day has been labor day as we have busily tried to pack up the current house and get the girls rooms painted, carpeted, and wipe down the year of dust and dead spiders in our repo beauty. My husband is a work horse. No job, including contact paper, is too miniscule or beneath him to attack like a new program on the computer. He does it and does it well. So, when I called him from the first of many trips to Home Depot this weekend to find out what else we needed, I hear him say Hold on a sec and I heard the phone drop...that was it. He never called me back, a good solid 15 minutes went by before my stalking him with incessant phone ringing prompted him to pick up and tell me what was going on. Unbeknownest to me, he was passed out on the floor that entire time! I digress. Apparently, in his quest to multitask as he began to steam clean the carpets he had turned on the tub to fill it so he could clean it out. That was an hour and a half before my phone call. The reason he was on the floor is because he slipped on wet tile. The wet tile that was a whole master bedroom away from the tub. WE WERE FLOODED!!!!! We have not even moved into the compound as of yet and we were already experiencing the sogginess of flooding. It was everywhere! When he picked up the phone for me, in between children hiding in the electrical aisle (I hate Home Depot) and laughing hysterically when I can't find them, he asked me to buy a small wet/dry vac, that the steam cleaner couldn't pull it all up. So, I do. I come home to admire the flood and an hour later we both realize that this is beyond us. We called the Utah Disaster Kleenup (AKA UDK). The UDK is running some kind of racket, similar to the mob, where when people are in dire need, they rake them over the coals until their pockets are empty and they have given them their first born. Thank goodness we beg, borrowed, and pleaded for a homeowners insurance policy which MIGHT cover the damage (of not one room, but two-but whose counting?) and that is where the thousand dollar deductible comes to play. My poor husband who had nothing but FANTASTIC intentions felt terrible and I was at a crux in fighting my how could this happen reaction. I looked at him and I said, first-I'm glad it wasn't me or the kids. Second, I might need to go work at Starbucks. Third, anything I do from here on out that costs us cash, will not be held against me. I told him I was trying hard to practice thousand dollar grace, that it could have happened to anyone, but last night when he accidentally dumped his ice water on his crotch, I laughed til I almost peed and told him it looked like another flood hit him. The water jokes are endless, but thankfully, so is the grace (and the 10 turbine fans that are currently blowing the carpets dry:)). So, we will not be having a welcome to our compound party until the "towels have been left in the washer for a week" smell has dissipated. Thousand dollar grace....the gift that keeps on giving.