It was over a week ago. I can blog about it now.
I had to go back upstairs and get my rubber boots on so I could get closer to this, without getting my feet wet. I may have sworn first. But quietly.
The carpet, unfortunately, didn't make it. I rolled it up, still dripping, tied it, and carted it outside. As soon as it was wet, it stunk. I didn't want to risk the smell not going away, and wasn't sure how I was going to squeeze out the water anyways.
Insert big white box fan here, and the floor was dry before 10AM that very day.
I was actually pretty proud of myself. I stayed calm. I didn't yell. I didn't call anyone so I could freak out first. Sure I had one little swear, but it was quiet and I think totally justified. And then I got over it. I just dealt with the situation.
Sometimes I surprise myself.
PS The laundry room floor actually looks pretty good now, nice and clean! And when Ian spilled water on it last night I made him dry it up so it wouldn't leave water marks. He didn't understand.
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