Something smells

For the last week, Josh and I were under the impression that the recently-remodeled bathroom downstairs had a funk to it because they didn't properly seal some sort of pipe. Or the toilet. Or something (waving my hands in the air, encompassing anything that may or may not be smelly down there).

Today, one of the guys working on our house informed us that no, the pipes were fine. It was the ceiling that was rank. You see, a small bubble in the drywall on the ceiling that we thought was old and innocent and nothing to worry about was -- wait for it -- a leak from the toilet upstairs.

Seriously. Is this a joke? Are we on some sort of weird candid camera house rehab show? Is someone going to jump out of the crack between the baseboard and the floor (that would be the result of the half-inch drop we've experienced in the living room since the sill beam was replaced) and yell "surprise" and give us a whole new house?

No? Well, that sucks.

So we had to shut off the toilet on the main floor for the next week until they can replace the seal and let it dry. Yes that would be the bathroom Jack uses to pee several times a day and now he is all in a tizzy about it not working and crying "Pa fick it! Pa fick it!" Translation: Grandpa fix it. Because my father-in-law is a super genius and can fix anything (seriously) and Jack knows where it's at when it comes to getting his potty repaired.

In the meantime, I am just putting my fingers in my ears and singing "lalalalala" and ignoring the whole affair.

So in the spirit of ignorance, here's some pictures of my kids! Together! Which never happens anymore because Jack acts like I am the papparazzi and he is Lindsay Lohan.


Raw sewage in the ceiling? We love it!