Alternative Title: Why You Should Always Follow Directions
There is a reason my tub is jet free
I am in a pensive mood today. Perhaps standing on my head whilst deep cleaning the children's bathroom rearranged some of my cognitive processes. All I know is that listening to "i Twerking" (good music to clean by!) while trying to scrub stains out of the corner of a shower/bath tub combo unit as I sang and dance made me remember this story from long ago:
Many years ago, my family was "down south" for the winter. In non-Alaskan terms that meant we had escaped the middle of Alaska-winter and were staying at my Grandma's house in Washington for a few weeks, enjoying the warm weather and such. My great grandma was residing in Yuma, Arizona for the winter, and my parents got the idea that we should rent a car and drive from Washington to Arizona to go see her. That trip became family legend, and this public service announcement comes from those travels.
That year there was some pretty epic flooding in California, so we had to do a bunch of back road diversionary driving. Our white Chevrolet rental car's tongue was hanging out as we pulled into a Day's Inn Hotel overlooking Modesto. Ma and Pa went all out on the room, we had double king beds, and most awesomely, a jacquzzi tub. With jets!
My brother and I quickly settled in by squabbling over what to watch on the TV, and Mom called my grandma back in Washington to give her the daily, "We're still alive" report. Dad, after a long day of driving, stripped to his tighty whiteys and loudly announced that he was "trying out that fancy tub." He strutted his way into the bathroom with little fanfare, for as he is a logger, we had grown used to him prancing around in his undergarments. This phenomena was observed most days throughout our life as Mom made him strip to his Fruit of The Looms so she could brush the sawdust off of him before he trotted through the house. Really, it was more like a beating, I think my mom thought of it as spousal retribution. We were totally used to a plethora of dramatic interludes from Dad on a daily basis.
Bro and I were absorbed in the offerings of cable TV, and mom was chatting away when we suddenly heard a scream and looked up to see the bathroom door bursting open. Water sprayed out of the bathroom along with a screeching, white underwear-clad form. The liquid dripping banshee launched itself onto one of the beds and began to roll around while keening in surprised agony. My brother and I dissolved into hysterical giggles, and my poor mother had to reassure my grandmother that we weren't, in fact, being robbed or murdered.
"Ron," mom breathed in a tone most exasperated, "What did you do?"
Dad continued rolling around like a beached baby beluga, so Mom, Jack, and I went to investigate the source of the calamity.
Every surface of that tiled bathroom was dripping H2O. We all looked on in awe as we pondered the scale of the catastrophe that Dad had wrought. Dad chose that moment to explain himself:
"All I did was put water in the tub and turn on the jets," he responded innocently.
I looked at the switch that turned on the tub's jets. Two things happened. One, I immediately grasped what my dad had done. Two, I began laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe. Finally, in between laughter explosions I turned to Dad and asked,
"Dad," I began, "It says here that you are to turn the jets on when the water is an inch over the jets. Did you do that?"
There was no way to miss the sign, for it was embedded into the wall right next to the switch that engaged the jets.
If there is an explanatory plaque next to one of these, you should probably heed it's directives...
Dad began squirming, we began laughing harder, and mom proceeded to make sure that the tub was properly utilized for our Dad's refreshing soak.
Moral of the story: Directions exist for a reason. It is usually in your best interest to follow them. Especially when they are in big white type on a brown plaque right next to a switch.
And as always, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's twerking iPhone.