Iguana Show You Something

A little break from our regularly scheduled fishes... I'm Galapagos Dreamin'.

So.

Yesterday, I was downstairs in the basement, cleaning up the boys' room, changing out seasonal clothing, dusting, that sort of thing.

And I smelled gas.

Yeah.

Remember Wednesday? When the gas inspectors found a gas leak OUTSIDE my house? And dug the big hole and, ahem, "FIXED" it.

Evidently, they overlooked the big fat leak INSIDE the house. Two feet from my baby's bed.

So, I smelled gas and called the number to report a gas leak emergency (as opposed to a gas leak everyday-occurrence). The lady on the phone advised me against smoking, and told me a technician would be advised and would come out and make it all better.

And then we waited. And waited and then we waited a while while waiting. The boys and I decided to go outside so that when the house blew up that we'd at least already be out of it. After about 45 minutes, I walked back in and could smell the gas upstairs, too, so I called again.

The lady on the phone (maybe I should make that The Lady on the Phone) asked me if we needed medical assistance, and I hesitated a moment, wondering if it would get me a technician any more quickly, but then answered, "no."

Stupid honesty.

Anyhow...Fred showed up eventually, found A HOLE IN THE METER, and replaced it and we are supposedly okay now. Fred seemed quite perturbed that the team that was here on Wednesday missed the HOLE IN THE METER.

Thanks Fred.