Ms. Fix It

What a refreshing shower! A stream of warm water had eased the tensions of another day and removed the fatigue from my eyes. I reached down to turn the knob to the off position when I heard a hideous snapping sound emanate from it. The knob continued to turn to the right and the water shut off.

With trepidation, I turned it back to the left. The number was disconnected and no longer in service. Not a drop of water. As for the bead of sweat on my upper lip and a suddenly increased heartbeat....

...Suddenly, I was a little boy again. The voice in my head admonished, "What happened, did you force it?"

Snap out of it man! But what to tell my wife. The truth of course. Tension returned to my shoulders. She's going to remind me how old the house is and that more things are going to break unless we move. That spot by the front door where years of runoff have left a hole that is like Niagara Falls when it rains heavily. Why just last week, I saw a sparrow going over it in a miniature barrel. The panel in the garage was falling out, forming a doggie door where no doggie was present.

Of course, I'd tell her. But it needed to be in the middle of a bunch of stuff. "Someone brought these gourmet cupcakes to work today.Another idiot who thinks the person turning left has the right of way cut me off on Club Drive on the way home.The Braves won this afternoon.I broke the knob in the shower.Where do you want to go for dinner?Did you make those earrings?"

"You broke the knob in the shower?"

"Yes." Fiddlesticks!

"How?"

"I was turning it off and I heard it snap."

"I keep telling you this house is getting old. More and more stuff is breaking and it's just going to get worse! Look at our stove? It only has one working eye!"

"That's why I call it Sammy Davis, Jr."

Deep sigh. "Darn it! This isn't funny."

Why didn't I pay more attention when Rachel gave me her puppy dog eyes when she wanted something? That would really come in handy right now.

Thankfully, my wife is the daughter of an engineer. She loves figuring out how things work. I just needed to give it time.

Me, I can't even walk into a Home Depot or Lowe's. The Jew in the hardware store alarms start blaring. Men wearing orange aprons rush to the front of the store waving screwdrivers in front of my face yelling "Flathead or Phillips?" as I tremble at the sight of other men with thick beards or plaid shorts or flannel shirts cackling with laughter at my nervousness while sale associates walk toward me like zombies in a Living Dead movie, wielding canisters filled with Amdro as I retreat out the front doors.

At least that's what it felt like.

I mean, my father burned his elbow once on a light bulb while painting a closet. I tried to help a coworker install an attic stairway once, but we put it in upside down. Real convenient for Santa Claus, not so much for everyone else!

A few days later, my wife informed me that the knob I broke is no longer manufactured. But I could see by the glint in her eye and the set of her jaw that she would not be denied.

Then she thought she found the part on the manufacturer's web site, but alas, when the mail order arrived, it did not fit.

Meanwhile, everyone is taking showers in my daughter's bathroom. Pink and purple hues lifted our spirits, but the plastic dolphins on the floor of the tub could become your arches' enemy if you stepped on them wrong.

Next I knew, my wife had traveled two counties over to try another part. The clerk wondered why she didn't just call a plumber. Why the nerve! Was he intimating to Rebecca that she should give up and we pay a couple hundred dollars to a professional? How dare he!

I came home a couple of days later to the proud declaration "We have a shower again! I fixed it."

"Awesome! Can I see it?"

"In a moment, but first tell me what I fixed it with. What's this a flathead or Phillips?"