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Just When You Scrape Together Cheese Money…

Okay, I don’t have cheese money, but I was starting to stockpile a little bit in the checking account, to pay for replacing the shingles that blew off the roof last week. And to maybe start a little of my Christmas shopping.

But then I came downstairs and said “What’s that?” to Junior, who doesn’t pay attention to this sort of thing anyway. Water spots on the ceiling. Sort of where the tub is. Oh crap oh crap oh crap.

I do not handle stuff like this. Neither does Mr. Dump. I do not feel like paying a fortune to have someone come in and rip things out. Our Christmas budget was going to be VERY tight this year anyway, but I didn’t want to spend Santa’s cash on plumbing and/or replacing the floor or heaven forbid, getting rid of mold because the leak isn’t new. I am doing worst case scenario, I know, but you have to mentally prepare yourself, right?

Looking at the ceiling in the kitchen, it struck me that the leak (which appears in a kind of line) looked a little far back to be where the tub meets the floor (which I have issues with anyway because the floor isn’t flush with the ground so it’s very very difficult to keep it properly caulked). I grabbed my only tape measure (I need a grownup-sized one) and got a rough estimate of 55 inches to the first spot. Then I went upstairs and measured out 55 inches…that’s actually the end of the tub, where it meets the wall. Crap.

My worst fear is that it’s a leaky pipe in the wall, I have to tell you. And the upstairs is just a disaster area, so I’d have to clean stuff up before I could even have a plumber come in and look at this. We are not handy, we do not do stuff like this ourselves. We don’t have the right tools, or the right skills. I hate my bathroom floor, but I am not going to be able to replace it on my own, y’know? Plus, I have no idea how much replacing a bathroom floor even costs. I have a headache.