IN HOT WATER ... NOT

(written Spring 2007)

Like most of you, I made a long, long list of things that I would do different than my parents. Never sending my children to Catholic school was one vow (changed my mind on that one 27 seconds after my first was born), never buying any of them a car was another (changed my mind on that one after driving a son to Don Bosco Tech twice a day for three years while waiting in vain for him to become horrified to be seen with his mother).

But the one vow I have kept was ... hot water. My mother resented any money spent on utilities and treated the water heater like the tea kettle. You don't heat the water for tea until you are ready for it, so why would you keep the water in the water heater hot? Now, there were seven people in the house, which would lead any sane person to be conclusion that someone was ALWAYS about to take a shower. Instead, if you were lucky, you actually got the shampoo out of your hair before the water turned tepid. It was cold by the time you got out and heaven help the people behind you in line.

So, in a flashback to my youth, when my kids started yelling at each other for using all the hot water one night last week, I knew something was up.

"Something's wrong with the water heater," I said to JY.

"There's nothing wrong with it," he said. "Too many people took too many showers."

Now, he's right that there are too many people living in our home, but - thanks to my vow - we'd never run out of hot water before. And I have the high gas bills to prove it.

"Give me the flashlight," I said, "and I'll got down into the basement and check the pilot light." (As we married people know, this is code for: Get up, get dressed, find the flashlight, find the batteries for the flashlight and climbed down into the cold, dark scary basement and check the pilot light.)

We've been married too long for him to take such obvious bait so I was on my own. I ventured into the cold, dark, scary basement and found a foot of water, which I didn't need the flashlight to see since I could hear the waves lapping against the basement walls as soon as I opened the trap door.

The next week was spent in a blur of trips to The Home Depot, shop vacs, trips to The Home Depot, Internet research on plumbing, and trips to The Home Depot.

In the meantime, the shower in the garage was used by all. it has a 10-gallon tank and with luck you got the shampoo out of your hair before the water turned tepid. It was cold by the time you got out and heaven help the people waiting in line.

I may have finally made my mother proud.