So today my Carpenter was off making homeowner’s dreams come true. I was on my own. I woke up with the grand vision of delivering my friend Jane some homemade beef stew. I did the necessary things like feed the dog .
I decided I needed to scrape the sleep off my face, shower and head to Jane’s house. My shower is no ordinary shower. It is a special shower, but not the good kind of special. It is the Carpenter’s Special shower. The knob broke off a few months ago as a result we originally were using a screw driver to turn the water on and off. Why? Well, because I live with a Carpenter. To a Carpenter most things are easy to fix. Although money and having a Carpenter is not an issue to fix the knob, time is. After making people’s dreams come true all day the last thing any Carpenter wants to do is come home and work some more. This is fair enough. “Why fix one small issue when we can gut out the entire bathroom and have a remodel done in two hours?” He says with a twinkle in his eye. Okay maybe I am exaggerating about the two hour thing. When the Carpenter works 5 to 7 days a week, the Wifey has to wait for repairs.
So here I was in my towel and ready to enjoy a nice shower on a rainy day and deliver my friend, Jane some stew.
Did I mention at this point in the shower knob’s biography we could no longer use a screw driver. Why apparently I did a thing called stripping the screw. I think that would have happened eventually but the Carpenter likes to tell me “you sounded like you were killing the screw when you turned it, die, die, die now it is stripped” So after the serial killing of the screw we had moved on to a vice grip thingy that looks like a medieval nipple clamp? Not that I really know what this tool is or what a nipple clamp looks like.
With some struggle I get the shower on. However, the nipple clamp fell off in the process. I knew I was going to have to turn this shower off at some point, but I have read books about mindfulness meditation. I was living in the moment, calm and relaxed. I refused to indulge the thought of never turning the water off. The thought of my water bill sky rocketing. The thought of causing California’s next drought because I sucked all the water up from Wisconsin and was forced to import my water from across the United States. Nope, I was doing my breathing mantra and enjoying “me” time.
After 15 minutes of mindful spa pleasure it was time to get out. I couldn’t get the medieval nipple clamp back on on. For a split second I managed to turn it and burn my ass but then if fell off.
Being the brilliant thinker I am I hopped out of the shower and threw on a towel. I grabbed every woman’s go to tool. The one that never lets us down. The multipurpose tool that we all reach for. The butter knife. To cut to the end (see what I did there) the butter knife broke and I almost died. Doing yoga poses in a slippery tub to yank on a knob with a butter knife, was not my best idea. Really, really not a good idea.
I realized I needed help. I called the Carpenter…no answer…I called Dad, Mom, Mother in Law, my Priest. I was praying. I really did not want to explain why I let the water run for 8 hours when the Carpenter got home.
I was in my basement sweating and staring at a million valves, the water heater, furnace, washer, drier, my high school yearbooks. I was lost.
Finally, my Dad called. My mission was to find the water main and turn it off. I found a box with some handle things and some pipes but I couldn’t be sure. At this point I just didn’t know and he didn’t know what I meant by “it’s a box with numbers.” My new mission from Captain Dad was to find the water heater and turn off the water from there.
He instructed me to turn the knob he believed to control the water. Panic set in. Didn’t these things get heated by gas? Wasn’t there something people did to flush them? What were all these weird pictures on it of people exploding? I couldn’t do it. Seriously why are there pictures of people exploding on it? I was envisioning the Carpenter coming home to find me burnt to a crisp and water everywhere. Side thought…. how would I burn if there was water everywhere? Whatever, it was my crazy panicked vision. Anxiety has no rationale.
I couldn’t do it so an hour later after all my failed attempts. In the end I did what some women won’t admit. I did what some women will hate and shake their heads at in disgust.
I found a man to fix it.
While looking like a panicked woman. A woman with visions of explosions and dollar signs going down the drain. I stood in the middle of the road and flagged down my neighbor as he was driving away.
I think he had it off in like 30 seconds.
Later I did deliver my beef stew to Jane. Only to discover her TV has become possessed. But that is another story. Read my next blog to hear that story and see my beef stew recipe.