The trout who inhabit this river have a fairly easy time climbing upstream against the gentle current of flowing water. The reflection of the bright sunlight on the water causes it to appear to be sparkling, and it adds to its aspect of friendliness and serenity. Then your mother comes home to find the house a mess. Dishes are stacked in the sink, the newspaper is strewn about on the floor, and paw prints are embedded in the sacred carpet in the living room. The current of the river becomes stronger, and tiny whitecaps begin to take shape.
Waves begin slapping the unsuspecting boulder faces which block their path.
Your mother rushes upstairs to see the bathroom covered in a deluge of toothpaste. The water is now surging forth at great speeds. The trout are fighting a losing battle to get upstream. All the beds in the house have yet to be made, and she has finally reached the end of her rope. The path of the river comes to an end and has no place to go but down.