I’m being beaten up by my own shower. A few weeks ago, a plumber came out and fixed a leaky upstairs toilet. As he was leaving, he said, “I made a few upgrades in your bathroom.” I asked him what upgrades, and he smiled slyly and replied, “You’ll see.”
So the moment he left, I ran up the stairs to my bathroom. I looked inside the shower stall…under the sink…behind the toilet…nothing! I seriously could not figure out what the guy had done.
The next morning, I got into the shower and WHAM! I was slammed into the porcelain tile by the sheer force of the water exploding out of my shower head. Think Niagra Falls on crack. I know that plumber thought he was doing me a favor by increasing the water pressure in my shower, but it literally hurts to wash my hair.
I feel like I’m in a deleted scene from 50 Shades of Grey every time I step into that stall. I think I might even have welts on my back.
I was about to call the plumber to ask him to put it back to the non-threatening trickle it once was, when my teenage son made me put the phone down. He said he LOVED the shower the way it was. Should I be worried? I wondered. Then he announced he was off to play a little D&D. My eyebrows shot up as I choked, “Pardon me?” And he repeated, “D&D! Remember, I’m the Dungeon Master?”
That’s when I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I realized he was referring to the game of Dungeons and Dragons, where he was the Big Kahuna, the Top Dog, the reigning King of Nerds, aka — the Dungeon Master.
God bless the geeks.