I got a SHOWER for Christmas!

Yeah, that's right. A shower! And I'm ecstatic about it! Truly!

Let us go back to a previous century, ie, the 20th Century. The year is 1996. My husband has recently realized he can't live without me and makes an honest woman out of me and blesses my 2 children with an excellent example of what a husband and father should look like... procrastination tendencies aside. We immediately build onto his little abode: 2 more bedrooms and a bathroom.

Thank God we built another bathroom. Seems it would house our only shower for 11 years.
But I'm jumping ahead. The Hubs decides to install a new faucet, etc. into the "old" shower and promptly disassembles the old knobs, faucet, etc. And there it sat. And sat. and sat. And sat (repeat for 11 years).

It doesn't matter to the Hubs. He showers at the YMCA in a curtainless shower room with 90 year old men every morning. But I have to share my shower with... brace yourself... teenagers!!!! We have more scrubbies hanging on my shower head than there are people in my house. To whom do the extra ones belong? My dogs are too short to reach them. Maybe the neighbors only have one shower and Marge comes over and uses ours while I'm at work. Anyway, I digress.

After making a zillion requests to youngest stepdaughter to clean hair out of the drain, wipe water off the floor, put the shower hooks back on the rod, bring towels up to restock, take her bobby pins out of the shower (you get the idea), I pleaded with Hubs to finish the "old" shower as a Christmas present for me! And, less than one week later, it's done. Man, does that guy love me.

Or maybe he figured he'd rather live the next 40 years with a sane woman.

So, I got my own shower for Christmas. And I washed happily ever after.