The mercury has picked itself up off the 32 degree mark and is limbering its limbs. Little birds can occasionally be heard breaking into little bird song. It’s the time of year when a young man’s fancy turn to love, and a young man’s siblings turn to Daddy and demand to know when Daddy is going to install another bathroom.
It’s a pressing question at our house, where eleven people share one and a half bathrooms. (Technically, it’s two bathrooms. But the downstairs shower is leaky, and will abruptly switch from one temperature extreme to the other if you look at it funny.) The insufficiency of bathroom facilities at our house is, from June through January, a relatively small inconvenience. And, in the event of a true emergency, an authorized adult can always opt to flip a top-secret switch that will cut off the water supply to indulgent bathers.
Come spring, however, this family’s lovestruck teens’ need to preen pushes us over the edge. Armed with weapons-grade hair care products and skin care solutions, the smitten parties commandeer both bathrooms. And they stay there, leaving pre-pubescent siblings and curmudgeonly parents to wait outside the door.