A week and a half ago
Walking across the kitchen floor, I thought I felt a tile shift underfoot. Hmm, odd. Walked back and forth a bit, couldn’t recreate the motion, figured it must be in my head.
A week ago
Sweeping the kitchen floor, noticed grout from between the floor tiles mixed in with the dust bunnies, cheerios and broken pasta. Okay, that’s not good. We had guests coming in a couple of hours, though, so I figured I’d call the landlord Monday.
We woke up to this:
Okaaaaay…guess that shifting tile wasn’t my imagination after all. (Gives new meaning to the term “floating floor,” doesn’t it? Heh.) All signs seemed to point to the dishwasher as culprit, so Jason turned off the water to it, and called the landlord. “Hi, Happy Father’s Day…um, we have a problem.”
Our landlord, Roger, came out to see the damage. He apologized profusely that we had to deal with this, but hey…I feel a lot more badly for him. He’s the one who has to coordinate the repair work. Our main concern was that we didn’t know how long the issue had been going on. Would the sub-floor have damage?
Jason looked under the dishwasher. YUCK. Has anyone ever cleaned under their dishwasher? As in, removed that little panel at the bottom and seen what’s back under there? I haven’t. Nasty.
Of course, some of that nastiness is mildew. Eww…
Roger brought a contractor out to assess the damage to the floor. No sub-floor damage. (Hurrah! This should all be fixed by the time Jason’s parents get here next week!)
Me: popping Tylenol Sinus and Zyrtec to fight the mildew-and-pounding-induced headache. Inhaler: at the ready for both Kalen and me, just in case. Windows: open. Dehumidifier: running full-blast.