all before ten

So, my husband had already gone to the old house (the contract fell through and we're back at square one with twice the expense as before) to work on mowing, weed-eating and simoultaneously smelled gas in the house--an agent who saw it last week had as well, but we dismissed it since we'd disconnected our service (in actuality they left it on for a bit as a curtesty to the new owner, only ther IS no new owner). Then there was trouble with the mower and he had to borrow one from a neighbor. Now, he's having trouble with knowing how to use that one. I believe our plan was that he'd be almost finished by now. . .Later, we're supposed to buy flowers to replace the very dead ones that are still hanging around. In theory, a simple plan. In reality, not so simple, as usual.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (I have not told my husband any of this yet. . .he has enough to deal with before he gets home):
Little B, finally dressed for the day, comes to me with an odd look on his face, "Mommy, you need to see come something. It's in the hallway." Okay, I haven't eaten, am feeding Miss C a banana, and doing a dozen other little things, but in a hallway, it couldn't be too big of a deal or take long to look at, right? Wrong. Drip. Drip. Drip. More than half a dozen gray spots on the ceiling and the dripping is coming from the light fixture. I rush upstairs to check. There is a full bathroom upstairs above the hallway. We love the fact it's there, but um, the water is supposed to stay in the toilet. But, it seems the seal is old and not working anymore. Great. I rush down for rag towels, back up to soak what I see and turn off the water. (I found someone's old p*nties wedged behind the toilet which cracked me up!) Little B joins me, dramatically proclaiming it's his first time with real panic. Huh. He doesn't know anything yet. And little did he know he'd be feeling more "real" panic only moments later.

I was on the phone discussing the toilet with my mom when I asked Little B to go back down and watch his sister. Within a minute or two, I went back down to the persistent sound of Miss C crying and Little B talking. Rounding a corner, I find that she has climbed on top of the table and my little hero was holding her there so she wouldn't fall off. Bless his heart. The moment I took her, he burst into tears, first saying she'd pulled his hair, but eventually I realized he was just -- panicked. Poor baby.

After I consoled them both and changed a smearing diaper, I looked at the clock and thought, "It's not even ten?"

Then, at long last, Little B and I had our breakfast.