I love my showers. Love them. I could stand under a hot shower – where the climate allows – for hours if I could. As I child I was routinely scolded for excessive water consumption, mainly because I would rest my bulbous head against the tiles and enter a sort of warm waterfall lubed up meditative trance.
We’ve been lucky in that in all our houses we’ve had in the decade plus time we’ve been in the nation’s capital that the showers have been good ones. Good pressure, reasonable size. Hell, in one house it was large enough for both of us to get into.
However what I really want to do in the shower is sit down. Because after a while of standing, bearing my large frame against gravity, I feel the need to sit. But use of a chair in a shower is problematic given the effect water has on furniture.
TheWife purchased some el-cheapie plastic chairs for tiddles from the Reject Shop – yes, that’s right, Australia has a chain of stores that sells low quality assorted business called The Reject Shop, proudly proclaiming its lack of care and attention in its very title. While there I asked to get me a chair – a chair capable of bearing my weight and one that was waterproof.
The only bummer about using this chair is that water collects between my back and the back of the chair. Which means if I fart the arse-gas bubbles through water like bong smoke to rise with its evil smell to coat me like a cloud of mites you pass through when you go for a walk.
TheWife also put in a suction pad corner shelf for me to put my diet cokes on.
So now I can sit in the shower and have a diet coke.
Apologies to the increase of girth in my carbon footprint.