Just talked to my husband, who struggled to find a term to describe the events of the last month or so. I said I was calling it our “plumbing adventure.” He thought that was good, but also hoped it would be an adventure we’d never have again.
“I think,” he mused, “I’d rather go over Niagara Falls in a barrel or walk a tightrope across an active, bubbling volcano.”
I agreed. Yes. Fit me for a barrel, please.