Monday, December 22, 2008

Living in Guantanamo

So I'm home for the holidays... for those of you who don't know, that's Minnesota.
Let me start at the beginning. After learning my flight was taking off 30 minutes earlier than I had planned, I hauled ass to the kennel to drop off my babies (don't worry, they are dogs!) and then rushed to the airport and through security only to get to my gate and find out I had a 3 hour delay because it was snowing in Minnesota. Guess I didn't have to run huh? Ahh, winter in Minnesota. How I miss it? NOT! But it sure is nice to have snow for Christmas, which is why I come home. So anyway, let's get to the good part. My family picks me up. It's -9 degrees, that of course does not include the wind chill. Those of you who have no idea what a wind chill is... have no idea. Basically what it means is it feels like -30. It's great to be home. We're driving home (my family lets me sit up front because they know what a wuss I am and that seat has butt warmers, I kiss the feet of the man or woman who invented butt warmers!!!) so I say to my dad, "I turned my house down to 72 before I left."
He laughs.
"What?" I asked.
"When we get home our engery saver will probably already be home so that means our house will be at 65, right Jan, isn't that what our energy saver is?? 65??"
I gasp!!!
"Are you kidding me?? Dad prisoners at Guantanamo Bay get better treatment than that!"
"Well Michelle, they are in Cuba. Besides, you are already supposed to be all tucked in your nice warm bed and you don't need the house to be that warm."
"That is unacceptable living conditions", I protest.
"Don't worry", my mom pipes in, "we'll turn it up to 70 while you're here."
Gee thanks I think 70... I live in Arizona and during the winter I keep my house at 76. But I don't want to press my luck so I guess 3 layers at all times it is!! Welcome home.
Now only if the story ended there...
So yesterday... we have a big day. My sister wakes me up to get into the shower. I turn it on, get in and literally 2 minutes later my hot water is gone... I mean gone. So I figure this is like Guantanamo Bay and I better ration. I put the shampoo in, turn the heat up and then jump under the water until it gets too cold. Now I figure I have just minutes of hot water left (the dial is near the end), so I put conditioner in my hair, soap on my face, soap on my body... and turned it all the way up. It was hot for all of two minutes... so I scrubbed as much soap off as I could... and then retreated. Where am I? Is this treatment just for me? Is it a sign I am never to come back?? So in the car to breakfast I tell my mom about my shower encounter.
"Really she says, we just got a new water heater. Your father is going to be pissed."
"Well something is not working right." I respond. "You know that's how you know your shower is over in prison mom, the water gets ice cold. Are you trying to tell me something??"
She just laughs.
This would be enough right... but there is more.
So last night, I go to wash my face, and there is no hot water... NONE. I mean I let the water run for minutes turned all the way up. So my mom comes up and I tell her. (After, of course, I had washed my face with freezing cold water) She says she'll have to leave a note for my dad. Uh-oh. Minutes later, I'm in my room and I hear footsteps (hard, unhappy footsteps going all the way to the basement). My mom comes back later.
"Thanks for telling us about the hot water problem. The pilot light was out on the brand new hot water heater. I hope this doesn't become a problem. That could have made for some cold showers for us tomorrow morning."
So glad I could be here to be your hot water guinea pig!!!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

AHAHAHAH!!! You are so in Gitmo. I thought 72 was cold in the morning.