Last Saturday two phone calls came, one from my son Steve who said, "Dad, my water heater broke." I have no idea why he'd call a guy like me. I'm remotely aware that hot showers contain hot water, but I have no idea where hot water comes from. The basement, I think. "Shut off the taps. Mop up the water," I told him, "and call your Uncle Bill. He's a plumber." The second call came from my daughter who said, "Daddy, my water broke." On April first she said the same thing on the phone, but this time I knew it was no joke. She said the contraptions were 15 minutes apart, which sounded urgent to...