Bathtub Bloopers

You have to LOVE military housing.  Our home in the Great White North had fresh paint and 30 year old pipes.  My introduction to just how neglected our home was came within a couple months of moving in.  Yes, we realized that we had to wear socks and heavy sweaters to stay warm right off the bat.  We just thought everyone had to do that.  All the other stuff that came with our rickety old house would make for wonderful stories.  But living with them at the time, I wouldn't do it again for a million dollars.  I will never forget the very first sign that all was not well in our abode.

It was just a couple months after we moved into our home.  The house was FREEZING.  Heavy sweaters, thick socks, and warm pants were a must.  In the mornings, I remember how I would look at the floor with dread, pull socks on my feet under the covers, and (on the count of 3) swing my legs out from underneath the warm blankets.  It was not a pleasant way to wake up in the morning.  

I showered first thing in the morning.  It was the only way to get warm after hitting those icy floors.  Taking my clothes into the bathroom with me, I would drape them over the radiator with hopes that they would actually warm up before I had to put them on.  One morning was so dreadfully cold that I decided that I needed a bath instead of a shower.  My body desperately needed to warm up.

After stealing all the heat from the water, I dried off and got dressed in the steaming bathroom.  Honestly, I spent a fair amount of time in there...all due to the dread I felt about braving the coldness of the rest of the house.  Finally, ready for my day, I went down stairs.

Oh, the sight that greeted me!!!  Turning the corner off of the staircase, I was confronted with a flooded kitchen!  Water was EVERYWHERE!  The whole left side kitchen walls and cabinetry were absolutely dripping with water,  the ceiling, the walls, everything.  Looking up, I realized that the bathtub must have drained into the kitchen instead of the pipes.  In a panic, I ran and gathered the few towels we owned and got to work drying the best that I could.

Taking a deep breath, I called Housing Maintenance.  Sheepishly, I explained that I had just flooded the kitchen and needed help, now.  Within half and hour, a repair man was there, working hard.  Staying out of his way, I waited to hear what the verdict was.  When he finally emerged from his task, I asked about what he had found.  

Shaking his head, he explained that what had happened had just been a matter of time.  Perplexed, I asked what he meant.  He then continued to say that he had pulled up the maintenance records on our unit before he came over and discovered that the plumbing hadn't been looked at in 30 years.  

Gulping, I asked him if there were any other issues that I needed to know about.  Smiling, he simply said, "Call when things go wrong."  There was no "if"...it was "when."  Boy, over the proceeding years, I called.  I called a LOT!  

My engineer would grow angrier and angrier over the following years at the housing military were expected to live in.  While I have heard that there is good housing out there, all the base housing we have ever lived in has been demolished after we moved out.  To this day I chuckle when I hear young enlisted spouses talk about how much better officer housing is and how unfair it is.  I bite my tongue and keep my thoughts to my self.  Thus far, we have only lived in housing that was condemned upon our exiting.  

Compared to housing issues we would face through the years, that first bathtub blooper is pretty tame.  Our experience with condemned base housing would cause us to look at people who insist on base housing with a mixture of concern and bewilderment.  Yes, I am gun shy.  Five solid years of disgraceful housing were enough for me.