In the words of Forest Gump..."It happens."

I had heard the bubbling a few days prior, but there was so much going on, I just passed the information over to my husband,

I said, "Honey, that toilet in there sounds like it's auditioning for a part in a Stephen King novel. It keeps bubbling when no one is around."

I can't pretend that my husband doesn't think I'm a little odd now and then, and most likely, because of all the stuff that was going on during the week - the wedding and company - he said, "I'll check it." And most likely, had to be called on to check on something else for someone else.

Then it happened.

Something really weird, out of nowhere, the toilet got the part in the movie (unbeknownst to Mr. King) and began bubbling forth that stuff that Forest Gump had stepped in -and the tub from one bathroom began to participate ... from here, I have no wish to cloud my mind with the details, but let's just say, I was shocked and dismayed and much, much Lysol was sprayed ...

However, I did not freak out. I mean, there was no point in that --

Then we found, the same as life is layered with every action equalling a reaction, the chain of horror continued because as we were dealing with what was going on in one bathroom ...

and you think you are safe ... you walk into another room, and your carpet in soaking wet ... and you stand puzzled for a minute, and then you realize something wicked this way came....you hesitate, look further and then do what all wives do....you call your husband's name~! (really loud)

I'll spare the in between, but the terrible ooze made its way to my mother in law's little cottage as well, as we are all on the same septic tank. But ,she is a woman of great faith and I believe God spared her the overflow.

Meanwhile, the carpets in two rooms ...died a horrible stinking death.

My husband said, "I'll get the rainbow and start working on getting this water out..."

Me, "Uh. No."

My husband, "Well, I suppose we could call a carpet company?"

Me, "No."

My husband, "Well, what then? We can't live with this. "

Me, "No, but we can live without this..."

He looked at me puzzled. "Dear," said I. "I know we have no money for new flooring, or even used flooring, but there is no rule that reaches our lives that says we can't throw this all away and have concrete floors until whenever..."

He nodded his head. Alrighty, then. Big pile of trash on the curb. (And don't think moving furniture from two rooms isn't difficult when you live in a tiny house...)

I lost several towels, two sets of flannel sheets and plenty of miscellaneous rag towels, but oh well, you know. I do regret that for reasons that make another story, my bed spread was on the floor, also, but, again, oh well.

So, that's it. Forest was right. It happens.