I battled you, hot water heater. I battled you because you took up arms against me. You chose to follow a path of darkness and evil. To dabble in the occult, and maybe even larceny (not sure what that is.) For many, many years you were loyal, hard-working, dependable and there for me. But something happened, and you turned vengeful and became flooded with spite.
You had been a king. I built you a castle. A house outside my home for your very own. No living in a pantry or an attic. I even put real cedar siding on for you and added insulation for the winter.
How did you repay me? By turning into a bubbling spring. A spouting fountain. A ruptured receptacle. Just like you ruptured my heart.
Imagine my shock when I bent down near your outdoor castle. (OK, it is more of a cabinet) and noticed the water streaming down the side of the walls.
“That’s odd,” I remember thinking. “This shed appears to be crying! Hot water heater sheds aren’t supposed to be crying … are they?”
Waterfalls: Yes. Portraits of the Virgin Mary: Yes. My face when another blasted appliance fails: Yes.
But hot water heater sheds: Unequivocally NO!
I know this because I looked it up. “No area, location, containment system or specially-built hot water heater castle shall ever spill, exude or send forth water, except through water piping, unless said heater has joined in open revolt and taken up arms against you.”
Those are the exact words written on the Internet. And we all know you can trust the Internet.
Imagine my shock when I opened up said-shed. The sight I saw floored me. Water streaming, and even steaming, from your top. Pouring down along your sides. The poor little opossum who once had been your bunkmate had long-since relocated for dryer ground. (Rude of him not to notify management before vacating the premises, but he is an opossum and they’re awfully bad with work orders.)
I stared in disbelief. “Traitor!” I wanted to yell. “Don’t you know a pandemic is in full effect? Hot water heaters don’t grow on trees. Now I’ll have to venture out into society to purchase a new one. Not that I have any experience in purchasing one. Last time I just pointed at one and said, ‘Seems tall enough. Does it come pre-filled?’”
I wondered if a little duct tape would fix you. Maybe the Internet had some thoughts on that.
To your credit, you were still working. By the amount of water pouring out, I’m not sure how. Your wiring was soaked. A large puddle had formed on your plywood floor. I can only imagine you were saving up for an even grander spectacle: Maybe a full-on burst that would launch you through the roof of your castle like a rocket. Or sparking into flames like a Roman candle. Go big or go home, you’ve always said.
Luckily, I foiled your plot. I got wise to you.
But what a mess you left me. You, and the opossum. All the leaves and newspapers and insulation and dog poop bags loaded in there to make a nest. (Who makes a nest out of dog poop bags!?! Only the opossum!)
I had to clear it all out, that soppy heap. Drain and pull you from the shed. Dry it all out. Then go get a new one. And turns out you were in cahoots with your replacement. As I drove the new heater home, my wife turned to look at the box in the back of our vehicle and screamed, “IT’S FLOODING OUR CAR!!! Is it supposed to do that?!?”
We didn’t have time to check the Internet. But apparently, by the amount of water pouring out they DO COME PRE-FILLED!!!”
Or at least when you have the dumb-luck to pick the one that was returned and somehow errantly put back into circulation with water still in it. (Were you in on this bit of trickery, too?!?)
So I went back to the store for a “newer” new one. One with no water in it this time. (I made that very clear.)
I braved swarms of mosquitoes. Questionable water connections. A tweaked nerve in my back. (You are heavy, fool!) A driving rain storm. The fear that I forgot to switch the electrical breaker off. (I did switch the breaker off, right?) All to install a new, more-loyal hot water heater in your place. (This new one has LED lights!)
Most importantly, he isn’t doing an impression of Niagara Falls. And if I’m lucky, won’t be plotting any rocket launches through his castle, either. But if he does, I’ll do battle with him, too. (I just hope the opossum doesn’t give him any ideas … or stuff anymore dog poop bags in there.)