So at our old house, maybe about a year after we had been in the house, the hubby had went into the attic to run coax for the television to Kid-O's room. Anyway, he had been up there for a while getting all the work done. Well, on his last trip out of the attic with the remainder of his tools his foot slipped and his leg went right through the ceiling in the living room. Praise God he did not fall through.
Well, the story gets better, because when we moved into this house, the hubby was in the attic, placing stuff in its place. The Missinator and I were handing things up to him as we would get them from downstairs. Anyway, the Missinator had gone back downstairs for another load and I was waiting with a load for the hubby, when I heard this noise, this unmistakable noise that I had heard before. The difference was there was no bad words after the sound; there was simply the calm voice saying "Why, Why?" When the Missinator came back up, I was holding my finger over my lips telling her to be quiet, all the while, I am trying desperately not to laugh. I walked her into our bedroom and showed her the hole in the ceiling of the new house that we had own for less then 24 hours. When the hubby came down, I told him there was things we missed from our home in Mississippi, that God gave us in this house, so he did not want us to miss an thing from the old house that we might have missed. Yet again, praise God the hubby was not hurt, and that we responded appropriately this time.
So four weeks later, the hole is still in the ceiling in my bedroom. I am hoping the hubby with get it fixed this next weekend. We will see how that goes.