Only He Alone Can Fix It

Not only was picking my parents up from the airport last night painless, it was convivial.  It may have been the result of starting off on the right foot.  Past halfway home, Father asked me about the weather here.  I told him that after the rain we were having during our drive, we would have snow tomorrow, and then cold for the next few days.  "So you came home just in time," I told him, to which he actually laughed.

Father was actually pleasant thereafter.  That meant fixing the problem with the leaky pipes with him a lot more tolerable.  Well, actually, he fixed it -- or, um, "fixed" it.  He put back a clamp with better tubing, and even though the pinhole leak (or leaks) was stopped up, it was still dripping down the pipe into the pail I practically installed underneath that pipe.  And he didn't do anything with either main shutoff valve; he just turned them down so that less what would pour out.  But he at least (that damnable phrase, "at least") thanked me for trying.  Yeah, he told me I didn't listen when he said before he left that I should use a clamp with that better tubing, but ... shoot, my brother wasn't being an asshole when I visited his place Christmas Eve, and we shared so much good feelings between each other since we got home, so I'm going to let that slide.

I've got to be honest: I'm glad they're home, if only because Father can now fix the pipes.  Well, he says that after my parents get done cleaning a house this morning, he's going to get -- what's that called -- a compression fitting (?) that should provide a better temporary solution before he just calls someone to replace all the copper pipes in the house.  (I've heard sounds all over the place, and now I'm afraid there's just water dripping from leaky pipes around the entire house.)  For matters like plumbing, I trust him, almost implicitly.  I have very little knowledge of these things, of course, and I'm not entirely certain he knows.  Plus, I defer to him because it's his house.  But, hate to say it (this makes me sound like a lazy Trump supporter) just letting him take care of it is a burden off my shoulders.  Besides, if anything happens, there will be three people who can take care of it.

Now, am I under any illusion that everything will be hunky-dory by the time I get home for dinner after I get done with this?  Uh, a little.  Which means I have to re-wire my thinking and get real pessimistic real quick.  Hey, at least they're leaving in a week.