We had just moved into our new home in Farmington Hills, Michigan. It was a nice little ranch home on a good-sized lot that happened to be about a half a block from our daughter’s elementary school. Val was just entering second grade and was excited about getting started in her new school to meet all of her new friends at Kenbrooke Elementary.
The Saturday before school started in late August, my wife Denise was getting ready to take her to get some school supplies for the new year. It was about 9:00 that morning when she started taking her shower in the bathroom we had on the south end of the house near the kitchen and adjacent to the laundry room.
“I’m hoppin in the shower” Denise says. It’s a funny thing. When Val was younger. Probably just before she started kindergarten. Her momma used say to us she had to hop in the shower right before she would go get ready to take a shower. Val became somewhat bemused and said. “Momma, why do you always hop in the shower?” From that day forward we knew we really had to be careful with what we said to that girl! Oh well, back to the story now….
I hear Denise turn on the shower handles for cold and hot water. The handles let out a squeak since it’s an older house and most everything squeaks in the house. For some reason, at that precise moment something bounded across my brain that occurred during my freshman year at Oklahoma State University when I was living in the dorm. You might say it was a moment of juvenile inspiration!
You see… there was always something crazy or silly that went on during my freshman year at Oklahoma State. The floor I lived on was loaded with freshman so that part of the dorm really did not stand a chance. We would spread our legs and climb the walls of the hallways with our tennis shoes on to see who could go the highest. There was no day that went by without a towel fight. We would set up greens inside and have putting contests, and of course we would have indoor water balloon fights. Someone got the idea one day to stick fire crackers inside rolls of toilet paper, light them, and throw them out the third floor windows. Boy was that a spectacle at night! Sometimes we would catch some unsuspecting freshman taking a nice hot shower and douse them with a freezing cold pitcher of ice water someone had in their mini-fridge. It’s funny that if they happened to be singing, the pitch of their voice got higher all of a sudden.
The last one… the pitcher of cold water was the one that gave me my flashback moment of juvenile inspiration. In that moment of recollection, I grabbed a pitcher of ice water from our fridge and hurried back to the shower area to hear Denise humming a soft tune. I pushed the door open slow and approached the shower. She couldn’t see me since the glass shower door was fogged and had frosted glass on it. “Tony, watcha doin?” she says. At that moment, I heaved the cold water over the shower and it landed all over her. She gulps and says in a very calm voice. “Tony, why did you do that?”
I felt terrible after that. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I am not sure exactly why I did that.” I said. To this day I still apologize to her for my weak moment of juvenile inspiration. We have been married almost 33 years now so you can see I have done a lot of apologizing. She is a good sport in all of it though and just laughs and says. “I am not sure why you did that either.” “Just don’t do it again!”