We suspected that the old-fashioned water tank in the new house might prove a problem. With two twenty-somethings that think that fifteen-minute long showers are normal because they are used to a water-on-demand system, it was never going to be an easy task to educate them in the consideration of others.
I’ve decided not to think about what they do in there.
Hence, the first world luxury of continuous hot water has had had to be scrutinized and reworked and the old man spent last weekend working out the exacting calculations (he divided 250L by 4) for how much showertime each of us is entitled to when you have an archaic tank of hot water.
A MAXIMUM of five-minutes, apparently. Easy for him to say when he has no hair to wash but since then he has taken up sentry duty outside the kids’ bathroom with a timer.
‘What if I need to do a complete body shave between Winter and Spring?’ NC asked.
‘That should be plenty of time,’ he replied smugly, confirming all our suspicions that he knows nothing about women.
My shower this morning was three minutes, fifty seconds, so I’m allowed to continue to reside here. Kurt’s was seven minutes, ten seconds, which puts him in the “under warning” category.
It is amazing how petty you become when you become middle-aged live in what is effectively a share house. With this new house came another new set of rules, or should I say, ANOTHER set of rules that we impose and hope that Kurt will adhere to.
One of them is that their friends are only allowed to visit for up to an hour, then they must go out – our attempt to thwart past “friends dropping by” sessions that have turned into full-blown parties in which our deck has begun to resemble an LA crackhouse. Harsh I know, but needs must if we are not to alienate our new set of neighbors, although the old man was somewhat perturbed this morning when he learned that his meeting with a business associate had been allotted a similar time limit.
His project next weekend is to create some sort of alarm system – Walter White-style – for those activities that have to be time-limited. Unfortunately, he is not Walter White so he may simply buy an alarm clock.
Other pettinesses that I am confident will fall as quickly to the wayside once we lose the will to live, include:
No consumption of food in the bedrooms
Empty water bottles to be refilled and replaced in the fridge
Wet towels to be hung up to dry ie. You do NOT take a clean one each time you take a twenty-minute shower
Dirty plates to be put IN the dishwater
No use of heaters after 1st October
We can dream, can’t we?
There are also certain custom-made rules, designed specifically for Kurt and his particular brand of foibles and special needs.
Inevitably, such tight security has reduced the atmosphere in the house to a war bunker. There are lots of furtive glances, hiding around corners, crumb searches of bedrooms and dobbing in and the Princess has become a carrier Spoodle for messages. Each of us has been forced to employ their own survival tactics. Alliances are yet to be formed.
Fairly standard share house behavior, I’d say.