It rhymes (yes! it's a poem!)

A lovely Gold-en weekend was to close out my vacation,
But what we had instead was a minor tribulation.
The morning of the 4th started with a flood:
Turned out our water heater was a Big Fat Dud.

"It's flooding," cautioned Conor, with customary cool,
As I fixed my potluck salad, mindless of the pool.
Some brief investigation identified the source,
And stand-in manly men helped me stop it in due course.

With Our Hero and Our MJ mounting an attack,
Wading to their ankles and running the Shop-Vac,
And Chloe and her pals gathering things piratical,
I finished up the salad and avoided thoughts fanatical.

"I'm sorry," I kept saying, much to the Golds' dismay
('Though it gave them an idea for a new drinking game to play);
Then the pirates loaded up their ships and headed to The Club,
Trading water-heater battles for fireworks and grub.