I spent the other night blowdrying Ben's year books. Why?
Because they got wet. Why?
Because they were in a box in the garage which got thoroughly soaked by the water coming out of the water heater. Why?
My landlord told me to drain the water heater. We were running out of hot water at an alarming rate every day. He made it sound easy enough--put a hose on the drain valve, open the drain valve, turn off the water to the water heater-- that I could do it by myself. In theory, the water should drain out, along with any sediment that may have collected over the years. I'm pretty handy, as girls go, and Ben was out of town, so I tried it. I was actually successful. I swear, no more water was coming out of the hose when I checked! Then I tried to get the hose off. It was stuck on there pretty hard, so I had to get a wrench. Suddenly the valve popped out of the water heater completely, and a strong spray of water hit me in the stomach, soaking me in seconds. Holding in the screams, I tried screwing the valve back in (it's still attached to the darn hose), saying a lot of silent prayers and spraying water all over the contents of the garage, including the box of Ben's yearbooks. I finally got the drain valve back on. Turns out I don't know the difference between the water shut-off valve and the gas shut-off valve. Oops.
I felt a lot better when the plumber came the next day and the drain valve popped off for him, too. At least I didn't swear like he did.