Pulling the "Woman"

Today I pulled the "Woman".

I try to avoid pulling the "Woman" at all costs because it sets us ladies back at least a decade.

It's also pretty embarrassing.

Today I ran out of my house to go pick up Sayler from daycare. As I ran out to my truck I became drenched in water coming from our lawn.

Or was it the neighbor's lawn?

Right on the border where our grasses meet the water shot out of the air forcefully, quickly soaking my  black yoga pants and black cotton top that fits too snugly since I've given birth.

Whatever.

'Notha Issue, 'Notha Day....

Anyway, I quickly panicked, envisioning my water bill skyrocketing before my very eyes.

I picked up my baby and upon returning called the water department and, in my most dramatic tone, explained how the water was going EVERYWHERE.

"Well whose house is it coming from?" The operator inquired.

"I don't really know," I said.

"Well, go look at your meter, and look at your neighbor's. The one that is spinning is the culprit."

I ran to both houses checking the meters and emphatically responded "but neither of them are spinning!"

She said she would send someone right out, and sure enough within the hour I peered out my window and witnessed a strapping young man kneeling in the neighbor's yard.

Moments later I saw him rise and walk to my door and then,

He knocked.

I gasped.

Like a young girl on Prom night I became nervous. I looked into the mirror as I clutched my baby.

Disaster.

Complete disaster.

No make-up,

My hair resembled a bird's nest,

And I was still in the poorly fitting cotton tank and black yoga pants that say "I haven't bothered to get dressed all day."

I opened the door to the strikingly handsome man.

He pointed in the direction of where the spout once spewed and like a hot caveman said "all fixed."

"Well, what caused it? How did that happen?" I queried.

"Looks like irrigation...."

"What's that?" (Of course, I know what 'irrigation' means...)

"Sprinklers" he retorted.

"Well, how come their meter wasn't spinning?"

The furrows of his brow crinkled tightly to indicate his confusion. "Yea.... it was... really quickly, in fact..."

"What? Wait, well just so I know for next time show me which dial to look at, because I looked at all six and didn't see any of them moving..."

I showed him the side of our house, decidely pointing at the grey meter.

He looked at me.

He looked at the meter.

He looked at me again, his good-looks searing through my joints.

"That's your gas meter."

Awkward silence...

Crickets....

I stared blankly back at the hero who had come to my rescue. I looked down at the baby in my arms, wondering if I couldn't somehow pin my stupidity on her.

"Oh."

That was all I could muster in that moment of complete awkwardness.

"Oh."

He walked me over to the front of my lawn and knelt down.

(For a moment, I wondered what it would be like for him to propose...)

Then I remembered I was carrying my baby.

The one fathered by my husband (who is equally handsome and also knows where the water meter-thingamagoo is located.)

He showed me how to check my meter in the future.  (Good looking and thoughtful... *sighhhhh*)

I said my good-byes to the man in (water company) uniform.

As I waved in parade-like fashion to see him off, in my head I quietly apologized to all of the women of the world for setting us back with my complete ignorance for knowing which meter was which.

Sorry, girls.