I Want Tomorrow

Enya











 “We could hang it in the bathroom.” I suggested, expecting to be met with scoff. But it wasn’t. It actually seemed like a good idea. So we entered the bath, nail and hammer at the ready. “Though it’s probably the same crappy ceiling at the dining room,” I grumbled. After all, we’d agreed so something was sure to go wrong.


He tapped the nail and the ceiling started to crumble. “This is wet.” He said.

“No… it’s the crappy ceiling.” I refused to believe.

He pressed his thumb against the ceiling and jumped back as his fist went up through the ceiling and water and debris rained down. “No, this is wet,” he said stating the obvious.

Thirty minutes later half of the ceiling was down. He was wondering about the walls.

Two hours later….

The ceiling is down. We are debating the walls. We wonder if the leak is coming from the upstairs toilet’s seal? A pipe?

The next day….

Where DO the vent fans vent to? Who knows?

Oh… it appears they vent to eaves.

“That’s not right, is it?” I ask.

“No.” His answer is curt and his jaw is set.


And the next ….

“It appears that the upstairs vent and the down stairs vent, vent to no where….” He says, but he’s calmer now. “I think we need to go to Lowes. But I think the leak is just from the seal.”

“And the walls?” I ask, a little scared.

“No. I think the downstairs walls are okay.” He answers and I let out a breath.

And the next…

“Do you like the tiles in the upstairs bath?” He asked sounding a little nervous.

“Not really… why… I thought it was the down stairs…”

The ceiling of the downstairs bath is gone. I’m frowning a little worried. With some hesitation, he explains that when he lifted the toilet upstairs he found more spongy areas behind the toilet. Then against the wall….