Water Weight Redux

Repost of the entire shower escapade circa 6/27/08:

So, as if I don't struggle with body image enough already, yesterday I broke through the shower enclosure floor.

Yep.

Crack. KaPow. And other assorted Batman expletives.

I had finished the whole "lather, rinse, repeat" cycle & was reaching around the door for my towel when it happened. I stepped down, felt a little bounce, the the floor gave way beneath me!



We have been planning a bathroom remodel for a while. A brand new toilet & sink sit patiently in the solarium. And the slab of black granite that has resided happily under my bed for what, three years, is waiting to be an actual countertop instead of a cat bed.

We built this house 19 years ago & it is beginning to show its age. This has been the year of burly, sweaty, tattooed men meandering about with hammers. No, my husband isn't burly, or tattooed. But he does get sweaty once in a while. We contract out...at least things get done that way. We have a new roof, new gutters, & the windows will be torn from their sashes & replaced this weekend. (I already dread the swarm of mosquitoes amassing battle plans while there are gaping holes in the bedrooms!)

But the shower is different.

Now, in my defense, there had been a hairline crack along the base. Seems the builders cut a few corners. Quite a few. I've been informed that there is supposed to be a support floor underneath the base of a shower insert.

I know, I watch that Home/Garden network channel on cable with the wonder women who install their own travertine flooring! (T-what the heck is travertine anyway?!)



But no, for 19 years, our shower has rested precariously with no support, a disaster in the making.

And, of course, these things only happen to me.

Now, I can see the abandoned son causing this. With his 6 foot, "you can bounce quarters off him" frame. But me? After all those bowls of Special K & the body ball of doom? It was sorta like Godzilla splatting a building. The foot came up. The foot came down. C R A C K!



*Note: I am not saying I have scaly Godzilla feet. Please don't get that idea. I have been pumicing & Burt's Bees Balming them into pedicured perfection. It is sexy sandal season after all.



It was just fairly embarrassing to have to come down to the kids & say, "Um, you can't use the shower anymore. Ever. I, um, broke it. No, not the water thingy....the, um, floor."

After they figured out what I was saying (& saw the huge, gaping hole), it became apparent that the "early for parties" faux pas is behind us & they have moved on to new territory.