THE PROCRAFTINATOR AND THE SHOWER FIASCO
by: Audrey Lintner
Cleanliness is next to Godliness, they say. In our house, it can be next to impossible. This is not to say that we fail to indulge in hygienic practices. It simply means that you take your life into your hands by stepping into our shower.
We've taken all of the necessary precautions. There's non-skid backing on the bathroom rug, and little stick-on rubber dots in the bottom of the tub. The drain is in good working order, and the hot water temperature is set to a less-than-lethal degree.
There is the shower itself to deal with.
The designer of our bathroom decreed that showers were passe, and tub baths were the big thing. This is fine for Junior, but anyone over four feet tall is not likely to enjoy being folded in half just to scrub off the remains of the day. With this in mind, we installed a shower hose.
Oh, yeah. It SEEMED like a good idea.
The shower hose is mounted on top of the faucet. By pulling a little metal tab, the water flow is diverted into the shower hose, which (theoretically) gives you a refreshing spray. In reality, you get a workout to rival anything to be found in the gym. Once the water hits the hose, it backs up, building fire hose-worthy pressure. This causes the hose to dance around the shower stall like a snake with a bad case of caffeine jitters, and leaves the would-be bather to re-enact Dances With Anacondas.
With a little care, the soggy victim can adjust the water pressure just enough to bring the dancing shower hose under control. A steady hand is required, because too little pressure is a lot like taking your shower a teaspoon at a time.
At last the spray is adjusted, and the bather can lather and rinse to their heart's content.
Then Larry turns on the washing machine.