Murphy’s Law of Home Improvement
The jet of water hit me in the face. “Motherless son of a biscuit!” I got a hand between me and the water but dropped the pipe cutter. Whatever, I didn’t need that anymore.
“What did you do, Jim?” Fred demanded, his tone dripping with derision.
“Shut it off!” I shouted back.
“Where’s the valve?”
“To your right. By the shelf.” The puddle on the concrete floor of the laundry room grew at an alarming rate.
“How the hell am I supposed to reach it. You have the ladder.”
“Just jump!”