This is not about dentists, despite the title that awakens visions of Laurence Olivier leaning over Dustin Hoffman’s open mouth in “The Marathon Man” and repeatedly asking, “Is it safe?” (Although now I have awakened a craving for Clove Oil.) If it related to any movie experience, “The Poseidon Adventure” is more appropriate, with the upside down life and all that water.

Last Wednesday night, just before the last Gordon Ramsay show, and just after I had slipped into my sleeping attire, my phone alerted me to a text. I am not going to quote the text because sheer panic is not pretty, but the gist is: The water shut-off valve in my older son’s family apartment had broken off and water was pouring ALL OVER EVERYTHING . . . AND GETTING DEEPER (and, if possible, wetter) The fact that the texter indicated she was contemplating crawling under her bed and wigging out was not a good sign.

Repeated texts and the typewritten plea, GRANDMA???

I could post this is the style of Alice’s Restaurant Massacre but I can’t stand the thought of 8 by 10 glossy pictures with circles and arrows and the Group W bench. So this is a summary: I redressed; I drove down; I pulled in and saw TWO cleaning service vans with giant sucking hoses stretching into the apartment . . . and then I squished over to piles of soggy (and soggy means heavy) clothes. That was the beginning.

After this beginning was: Loading cars with wet stuff, driving to a dry refuge (my house), bedding down people and one dog and one cat . . . and waking up to days of industrial strength dryers and washers, not to mention sorting and repacking stuff.(We petered out along the way and so I am giving temporary shelter to some of the rescued things.)

At first we tried to make lemonade – take out food and Redbox movies while we sorted and then discovered the party-like attitude of lemonade made out of lemons loses its appeal after awhile.) Plus, college was starting on Monday, the day the apartment was to be deemed totally dry and our engineering/math person was slowly moving into the 2+2 does NOT = 4 and the SKY IS FALLING phase. And the NURSE member was facing two days of double shifts on the psych floor. (I was wondering how she would be able to tell the difference between being there and here – Oh, yeah, she’d get paid.)

They got back in yesterday; school started, shifts were done and one aging grandma did a faceplant on the sofa.

It is not over; much is still to be done; I do not want any more lemonade.

I forgot to mention, the engineer/math person had a birthday the weekend before and all this washing and drying and sorting and impromptu sleeping and eating was done in the presence of 11 helium balloons floating around.

I may write more of this adventure, or I may decide to return to the faceplant position and mumble into the sofa.