The hot of it

When I was in the fourth grade, someone from some non-profit organization came to talk to us about environmental conservation, and give us the very fervent hope that all children seem to be given at some point or another that all was not lost, that by encouraging our parents to recycle more and with efforts to conserve water, we, too, could save the environment safely from our own suburban homes, one little step at a time. I went home that night and put little clinging plastic reminders on our bathroom mirror that declared "Take shorter showers!" and "Conserve water!" with tiny cartoon icons of faucets and steam. I didn't think too hard about the message, but I thought their slick material was totally cool (they stuck to the mirror without being sticky!). For the next few years, my sister and my parents never let me live it down. If anybody needed to take shorter showers, they said, it was me. I turned on the faucet and was lost to the world for the next twenty minutes. I sang. I talked to myself. I examined my fingernails and scrubbed in between my toes.

When we moved to Philadelphia and got settled into our apartment, we noted to ourselves, then to each other, then to our neighbors, how the water wasn't quite hot enough. It got worse over the two and a half years we've lived here until a lukewarm shower was just about all that we could hope for. In the middle of winter, let me tell you, I could be in and out of that bathtub in less than five minutes. I even considered making a special trip to the gym for the sole purpose of a hot shower. But, somewhere along the way, several weeks ago, H put his foot down and decided to call the landlord. He should know about it, he said. If we need a new water heater, then we need a new water heater, he said. But, it turned out, the problem was much simpler than that. Embarrassingly simpler. Two and a half years of less than desirable showers were remedied with a wrench and a quick one-two on some knob or other. The plumber said to call him back if the problem wasn't fixed. There has been no need. Oh, the heat! The steam! The soothing flow of piping hot water on your body at the end of a long day! It's back in my life, and I have to admit, I missed it. Now my showers are creeping back again to real events. Twenty minute events, off-pitch show-tune medleys included. I'm sorry I've let you down, fourth-grade guest speaker, but I'll just have to find some other way to save the environment. My showers are just too precious.