The Christmas when everything broke

It started with an ominous splashy-splashy sound under the sink after I brushed my teeth in the morning. It wasn’t a drip-drop sound, but something that cried out, “call a plumber.” But the thing was – it was the Wednesday before Christmas and no one could make it out until the day after Christmas. That wouldn’t have been so bad if one of the other three upstairs sinks was also out of commission pending a bathroom renovation. One functioning sink for a family of six – including 2 teens – was not good. It was going to be an interesting week.

And that wouldn’t have been so bad if I didn’t come home Thursday to my wife holding a small mangled plastic doo-dad that indicated that the dishwasher was also broken. Friday night my monthly poker game – in which I had never lost more than $30 before – delivered me a $70 spanking. Should I have been surprised?

Saturday morning, as my lovely wife and I prepared to have 15 members of my extended family over for brunch, I turned the key in my car ignition and was treated to silence. No clicks, no revving hum, no nothing. Hello dead battery. After all the relations had arrived, my wife tried to extract an ornery piece of ice from our freezer and pulled out a not-so-small plastic doo-dad attached to the icemaker instead. Well, at least it isn’t summer time…

On Christmas Eve we hadn’t been in my mother’s house more than an hour before we heard screams from the stairs. My sister’s dog had tried to bite my son’s ear off. The EMTs were surprisingly good-natured for the night before Christmas. We finally left the emergency room just before midnight, my son sporting a nasty 16-stitches worth of a wound in his left ear.

As if my body had announced surrender, I woke up Christmas morning with an epic sinus headache and persistent juicy cough. As soon as all the gifts had been opened and Christmas breakfast consumed, I hit the bed for nearly a full 24-hour nap. It wouldn’t be until Friday that I could take an unfettered breath.

So it’s been a rough 10 days or so. And it’s not over yet. But through it all, I have to say I’m very grateful. My son’s injury could have been much worse and, at 4 years old, he is incredibly resilient and has quickly resumed pestering his older brother. I’ve thrown off my illness pretty well and I have a wonderfully supportive wife who allowed me to check out for a full day. Things can be repaired or replaced. I’m lucky I have $70 to blow in a stupid game.

The New Year presents many exciting potentialities. My surprising eldest son has been cast in “Peter Pan” so the exciting, occasionally overwhelming logistical challenge of his new career will continue for at least several more months (see, this IS a theater blog…) An awesome family trip for spring break is already deep in the planning stages. I have a decent shot at having my first scholarly article published.

I hope you too, dear reader, are poised on the edge of an exciting New Year full of promise. Thank you for checking in on my sometimes semi-coherent ramblings, for your comments, and for your support of – or participation in – the Richmond theater scene. Take care.