Since we moved into our first house six months ago, my husband and I have generally kicked ass at taking care of the stupid vagaries of home ownership. We replaced the hot water heater, weatherproofed, bought furniture, decorated, and planned our long-term renovation projects.
Then there's the shower. We only have one, and the water gets lukewarm at best. It's not bad when the weather is fine, but when it's ten degrees out, you feel like you've volunteered to become a human popsicle. Weirdly enough, the water from the bath tap is fine--it runs cold, warm and hot. But who, besides Baby Razor, has time for a bath? Since I'm at home with an 18-month-old, I barely have time for a shower at all, which may explain why I'm still flapping my arms and squealing as I dance as far away as I can from the shower spray and try to wash the soap out of my hair at the same time. It's not like I have more than three minutes anyway, so I might as well not enjoy it. And Mr. Razor is chronically late, so the speed showering has actually helped him make the bus.
Other plusses? I don't have dry skin like I usually do in the middle of the winter, our water bill was all of $26 this month, and we're definitely doing our tiny part to conserve water.
But. I would shank someone for a baby-neglecting, dry-skin-causing, money-wasting, planet-destroying, twenty-minute-long HOT shower.
We need to get it fixed, but it's become the task that keeps getting pushed aside by all the other little money-suckers of adulthood. Christmas presents, a new car seat, curtains to keep out the draft, a guest bed. That last one made us realize that it's kind of awful to have guests over just to turn them into human popsicles, so really, for real, the shower is the next thing we're spending money on.
As long as that scratching in the walls I heard last night didn't belong to anything living.
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