I don't bloody believe it

A note of warning for those with a sensitive nature - there may be a few swear words in this entry. Or, as we say in Texas - I'm gonna do me some cussin'.

Came home after a really great day at the London Aquarium to find that our boiler is busted. The damn thing is barely a year old. First thing I did - freak out. Then I calmed down and called the number on the boiler. It's still under warranty and they're going to send someone out as soon as possible. Unfortunately, to them that means sometime on Monday. I said in my prissiest, poshest, most English accent 'Well, that's just not good enough is it.' I then ruined the whole effect by lapsing into Texan (it always comes out when I'm angry, tired or have drunk too much and I was two out of three by this point (angry and tired)) and said too loudly 'So whut the haaail are you gonna do 'bout it!' That completely blew my chances of any help. Rudeness is one of the greatest sins in England. Even after pleading my case of having a two year old baby and asking to speak to a superior I was quite tartly told that an engineer will be here on Monday, no sooner.

Once I banged the phone against the table a couple of times and thought about the situation I realised that we're really not that badly off. Our shower is electric, which means the water is heated on demand, so we'll still be clean. Our dishwasher works the same way so we'll have clean dishes. We'll be freezing our butts off but we won't smell bad. I even broke down and called J just so I could vent. He's in California with work this week and I hated doing it but just hearing his voice made me feel better and he reminded me that we have some electric heaters in the loft. So perhaps our butts won't be quite so cold.

I do have the joy of going up into the loft tomorrow to retrieve the heaters. That's going to be interesting. I can be remarkably coordinated when it comes to things like roller skating, swimming, dancing, but I'm also a complete klutz. I have visions of crashing through the ceiling, ladders falling down the stairs. Ah well, it's going to be a little adventure.

And then there's this little conversation which was had right after the phone/table banging:

Toby: (with a quizzical look) Mama angry?
Me: Yes, darling but not with you. I'm angry at the boiler because it's not working.
T: (to the boiler) Naughty boiler! Say sorry to Mama.

He just melts my heart.