My husband and I had a series of Steve Urkel moments over the weekend.
Again confirming my superstition that bad things happen in threes.
3 3 3
Well, only two things happened over the weekend. And I'm completely dreading the third disaster which is inevitable. Okay, maybe "disaster" is a little overdramatic.
I'm a Leo, I can't help it.
After they left, we (let's just be honest, I) started cleaning up. The day before, we noticed that our dishwasher (circa 1970) had some water remaining in the bottom after the cycle was done. Didn't really think anything of it. Maybe something was clogged, it'll drain out.
Rookie, apartment-dweller mistake.
I filled that sucker up with dishes anyway and turned it on. I was at the sink washing pots & pans and all of a sudden my foot was wet. Our dishwasher decided to dump water out all over the floor. At 12:30 am. Lovely.
I turned it off & ran to grab our old bath towels to soak up the mess. My brother Eric recently advised us to save our old towels for situations when our future children barf all over the floor, etc. He is SO wise.
Yes, I did that.
Ugh, what's next?!
Please let it be a hangnail or something.