While The Boy was working on plumbing in the basement as part of the laundry room project, he had to turn off the water. Now this would be a straight forward proposition in some places, but not, as it happens, in our house. There were numerous options for where to turn off the water to the laundry room. One of those options was in the ceiling of the downstairs bathroom. My bathroom.
The first Monday morning after he worked on it over the weekend, I stepped out of the shower to a big puddle of water on the floor. At first I thought the steam had just gathered on the cold pipes and dripped. So I mopped it up. A while later, I identified the problem. A drip.
It was the kind of drip that you get familiar with in an old home. It was the “this gasket was fine until you touched it” drip.
I put a paint tray underneath it and went on with my day. The Boy was aware of the drip, it turns out, but was hoping it would stop. It didn’t. He was going to have to do something. But, since it was a slow drip, nothing was done right away. A week later, the paint tray had about a half an inch of water in it. As I was getting ready for work, I noticed that Oliver was in the bathroom with me. And then Obi arrived.
But I was not the source of their entertainment.
There was a bubble.
Every time the water dripped from the pipe, a bubble would form in the water and float around for a bit. The kittens would watch it intently until it popped. Then they would continue to watch, hoping it would come back. They’d lose interest and look away just as a new droplet fell to create a bubble. Then they would lean in close to look at the new bubble.
It may be mean of me, but I’m sad to say neither of them ever got pegged in the head by a droplet.
Does that make me a bad “mom”?
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, grandma, and mother in law. Plus, of course, all the other mothers out there doing what you do. And Kitten Thunder sends out warm purrs and head hugs to all the Girls and “moms” of critters big and small.