They Call Me Junebug

Goose bumps

Last night I decided that I would come in to the office early this morning, so I set my alarm, went to bed early, and I informed my dear sweet husband of my plans.

This morning, before I was even able to turn off the alarm, my husband (who NEVER gets up that early) bolted out of bed and made a mad dash for the upstairs bathroom. Moments after I heard him thunder up the stairs, the upstairs shower kicked on.

Grumbling foul words and snuggling back under the covers, I debated whether or not I should chance it and try to take a shower in the downstairs bathroom. Our water heater is on its last legs, and has a hard time providing adequately heated water for more than one shower at a time, so I chose to stay in bed and wait him out.

Even though I was the one who wanted to get up early and take a shower. I waited.

And I waited. And I waited. While lying in the bed, trying to stay warm, I watched the clock tick away 22 minutes. Then, I heard something.

The flow of water changed. Could it be? Is he done?

Not even close. I heard the nice neat even flow of water change, and I heard the distinct sounds of water sloughing off a person in sheets and hitting the bottom of the tub.

He had been in the bathroom for over 20 minutes, letting the hot water run, while he wasn’t even in the shower. You know, so the bathroom would be nice and steamy and he wouldn’t get cold.

Realizing my morning was screwed, I got up and let the dog out. Did I mention that our dog won’t do his business unless you’re standing on the back porch(sometimes in your pajamas) watching him?

It was 40 degrees outside. I got cold. I had to take a shower. There was no hot water left. I froze my butt off, and discovered that shaving over goose bumps hurts.

That was how my Monday started, cold and wet.

That’s ok, it was better than how my husband’s day started, or will probably end.

posted by The Call Me Junebug @ 10:17 AM