A Waterfall of Love

"NO LEAKS!!!" "WE'RE GOOD!!!" "ALL CLEAR ON BATTLEFRONT NUMBER ONE!!!"
Leak Duty. We need walkie-talkies. An arsenal of water-defying armaments. Scuba suits. That's right. It's replace-the-plumbing-because-we've-had-way-to-many-leaks-time. Everything's peachy. The middle-stairs faucet works, the little bathroom's faucet works...
"ENEMY INVASION ON FLOOR NUMBER TWOOOO!!!!"
Squad Member #3 (That's me) rushes to the site of the incident. My eyes widen at the site of the catastrophe. Ok, it's just a little drip, but, um, it's coming from the ceiling. And there's this huge bump that looks sort of sloshy. I pull a convenient weapon from the cabinet and hold it up to the ceiling. Squad Member #1 slides into the kitchen at a full battle run (That's the slippery-sock slide, for those wood floor connoisseurs). He slices the bump open with surgical violence, and water surges from captivity into the waiting receptacle. Yes. It was the dreaded "Pipe-Leading-From-The-Tub-Break." Huge gaping hole in the ceiling right above the kitchen counter? Dry wall dust in my chicken salad and tub slime in my apple juice box? Just a little piece of soggy ceiling falling in the midst of a loving family's home.
Don't grow up, kids. I've heard home maintenance is a drag.

A life

My mom and I were sitting comfortably in the living room. Our conversation wandered to an accident she had seen coming home. There was a helicopter there, she said. It looked really bad. Be careful in the intersection, will you? I shrugged it off, sure, of course. She says that every time I have to go through the intersection. The phone rang. Pick it up, it's probably for you. I answer and hand it to my mom. Her tone becomes serious as she answers the voice on the line. Yes, we'll do whatever we can to help, of course. I'll call people. Let us know if anyone needs a ride anywhere. Somebody we know in the accident. The little boy, he's alright. The father, the father isn't. The father died. He died so close to home. So close to his family. Killed.
Dad won't be there for his kids tonight.
Mom lays awake in an empty bed.
He's gone.