Five weeks to the day after our house became, well, ours, the water heater took a crap.
Yay.
So, CG and his dad have spent the last two nights taking out the old water heater — which spewed water all over our entryway floor as we were preparing to go to bed — with a tankless heater.
A few minutes ago, CG came in, instruction booklet in hand (I knew something was wrong at this point because he NEVER reads instructions unless he screws something up), sits on the couch and tells me they got the cold water and hot water hookups mixed up.
This comes AFTER they actually took the 2.5 seconds to look in the instruction booklet to find out about the hookups.
Le sigh.
The water-heater shenanigans follow a week in which we’ve had to set mouse traps in the kitchen because the little buggers are chewing through my Special K bars and my Instant Breakfast packets.
I’ve lived in central Illinois my whole life (minus those 3.5 months I lived in the UK), but I’ve never lived in this rural of a setting, so I’ve never given mice in my house a second thought. Now that I’ve had to deal with them, ick. No more.
Of course, there is no way I am dealing with the dead mice once the traps catch them. I just run away screaming.
Here’s hoping this whole homeownership thing gets a little less … eventful.
Snicker.
UPDATE: The new water heater is in and working, but my kitchen and dining room are a mess. Lesson: Never let the men do something in your house while you have to work all weekend. It will end up taking you three times as long to clean up as it took them to mess it up.
