Hanging a shower curtain is a pain in the aRMS (fooled ya, didn’t I?) and there is an added challenge when you can’t see too well. But it was time and so I ordered new liners, curtains and curtain rings and today was the day I would NOT put off the chore. Because of the way our tub/shower is set in the bathroom, it requires two curtains, etc. Double the fun.
I brought one set of everything into our bedroom and lined up the curtain and liner and was ready to add the rings to bind them together till mildew do them part. I dumped all the clear plastic rings onto the bed. They’re CLEAR, Sister Rain, making them impossible for you to see them on the bedspread! I felt around until I found one and attempted to open it so I could thread it through the curtain and liner’s holes but this sucker was not coming apart. I groped around to locate another, repeating the same Herculean effort. Apparently Hercules had a glass shower door because the second, third, fourth and FIFTH rings weren’t budging either.
Bad words were said and feelings were hurt. The feelings in my hands and arms! I refolded the curtain and liner which was a futile endeavor, similar to the act of folding a map while on a road trip with your spouse when you can’t read the map to his standards and he won’t stop for directions. You know, before your phone could get you anywhere:,your destination, nearest bathroom, nearest CLEAN bathroom.
As I returned all the participants in this ill-feted project to the spare bedroom, I thought about the fact that I don’t think I’ve purchased new rings in the 20+ years we’ve lived here, although I have taken them down and soaked and scrubbed them many times. Can you say: “My mom grew up in the Depression?”
A few hours later I went into our bedroom and stepped on something. I looked at the floor and didn’t see anything so I reached down and felt something hard. I picked it up. That shower curtain ring was open now.
