Draggletailed Guttersnipe

Around 2 AM I was awakened by a tapping. My six year old had woken from a nightmare. He stood hovering over his father’s side of the bed and was tapping on the mattress in the vain hope of waking his father. The vibration jolted me from my sleep and contributed to the likelihood that I would experience my own nightmares as my brain tried to process the pale face hovering over the dark mass that was my husband’s sleeping form. “I had a bad dream.” The high pitched whimper aided in bringing me fully conscious. He came around to my side of the bed where I held him close, prayed the nightmare away, and advised him to read a little from a book he enjoys to keep the bad dream from returning. As I tended to the boy, I became aware of another incessant tapping…that of rain on the roof. This realization brought with it the unwelcome recollection that earlier in the day, I had noticed one of the gutter downspouts scattered in pieces across the lawn. I tried to ignore the prospect of rain water filling the basement yet again but visions of transfer pumps and shop vacs filled my head and drove my weary form from bed. I pulled on galoshes, grabbed a flashlight and headed into the downpour. My memory had not failed me and an open gutter spout was, indeed, gushing water directly down the siding and against the foundation wall. As I gathered the strewn pieces of downspout, I quickly realized that the challenges I face in the vertical reach department were going to make a simple job rather more difficult. Undeterred, I grasped the first short piece of downspout and strained to fasten it to the gutter opening…my height factored in and I ended up creating a funnel that shunted the river of water through the piece of downspout and directly down my coat sleeve. I muttered some high pitched whimpers of my own, leaped back from my work and re-assessed the task before me. I considered dragging my soaking self back up the stairs and waking my capable husband. But…I was already wet, I was not yet cold, the husband was sleeping peacefully, and I am loath to admit defeat. I persevered, and shining the flashlight around, caught sight of a washtub leaned against the side of the house that just might give me the height I required. I also pre-connected the pieces of downspout so that I would have a minimal amount of fastening to do while water was flowing through the pipe. However I coordinated the process though, I could not get past the necessity of attaching that first piece and again creating a funnel of gutter water above my head. Finally, I gritted my teeth, climbed onto the wash bucket, and stood under my gutter water funnel until I could reattach the longer downspout and divert the water from my head to the lawn below. While completing the necessary task, and indulging in some rather unladylike grunts and utterances, I could not help but imagine my poor six year old nightmare sufferer. I truly hoped that he was not attempting to tap his father awake again, unable to find his mother, and hearing unholy bangings and moanings coming from the rain outside.

In the end, the spout successfully reattached, I required a complete change of clothing, a thorough towel dry, and the rinsing of gutter water from my eyes but… my family slept peacefully and the basement averted disaster. I managed sleep almost immediately thereafter and dreamed dreams of downspout horror. (Although, in the dream version my efforts were supported by my friend Holly who offered moral support from the lawn).