Expect the Unexpected
I know I don’t need to keep saying this, but life with John is a constant adventure. Whether he’s tipping over backhoes or boiling traps in a metal tub in the front yard, he never ceases to surprise me. However, you might think the house in general and the bathroom specifically would be a relatively safe haven. And you would be wrong. With John around, you should ALWAYS expect the unexpected.
I don’t have data to support this belief, but I imagine that showering protocol is pretty much universal. You turn on the water, wait for the desired water temperature, and engage whatever device forces the water from the faucet through the shower head. When you are finished, you reverse the process by disengaging the shower head and turning off the water. I’m flexible enough to accept those who shut the water off first and then disengage the shower head. What I can’t abide is anyone who shuts off the water without changing the flow back through the faucet.
Now some of you might think I am being obsessive with my insistence that the shower head always be shut off after bathing. “What’s the worst that could happen?” you might ask. The next person who turns on the water gets a little sprinkle on the head–not a big deal. I would agree if that were true. However, my recent experience proves that deviating from this procedure might be what pushes us past the brink of a global apocalypse.
John usually makes the switch after he showers so he lulls me into a false sense of security, and I forget to check the shower setting every time, which is what happened last week. My cat like reflexes allowed me to shut the water off quickly so my head barely got wet. I switched the water to the bathtub faucet until it was the right temperature and stepped up the step into the elevated bathtub. Unfortunately, I failed to consider the fact that having cold water standing in the pipe to the shower head would eliminate the few seconds I normally have between when the water is switched and when it actually comes out of the shower. I was instantly doused with ice cold water, and in my haste to turn away, I slipped and lurched toward the shower curtain.
As I struggled to re-gain my balance, I teetered back and forth over the edge of the tub flapping my arms like a giant, naked, wet bird about to leave my perch. I knew the shower curtain wouldn’t be substantial enough to steady me, and I was trying to decide how to land to minimize the damage should I actually fall the approximately two feet onto a carpeted concrete floor, most likely head first. The brief seconds seemed interminable, but I finally regained my equilibrium and finished my shower with my heart pounding.
I thought about admonishing John for his behavior that contributed to my near death experience, but I decided it wouldn’t change anything. He would undoubtedly apologize and remember to switch the shower back for several months until the next time he didn’t. The only behavior that has any potential for change is mine. Living with John, I just have to remember to ALWAYS expect the unexpected.