One of my greatest pleasures in life is my morning shower. The simple act of standing under a powerful stream of hot water serves to wake me up and enliven me for the challenges of the day ahead. It feels like a renewal of body and spirit as the cascading flow washes away any lethargy or negativity from my system, returning me all shiny and refreshed and ready for action.

However, nothing stays simple and straightforward for too long in my life, or so it would seem. A few days ago my wife questioned me about the amount of water I deposit on the floor after I have had a shower. I suggested that it was because of the hirsute nature of my body (over-production and poor distribution, I’m told!) which retains copious amounts of water within the fur. Short of shaking myself like a dog emerging from the sea, I was not sure what I could do about this. Unconvinced, the ‘squeegee master general’ insisted in observing my modus operandi to see if she could solve the mystery. At once she spotted the damp flaw in my shower ritual: the water on the floor was coming not from me but from the lip of the shower door when I opened it. “What I do is to run my toe along the lip before opening the door, thereby removing the reservoir into the shower tray and not onto the floor” she advised.

So, my next shower I made a note to add this additional activity to my once simple routine.

Some days later the ‘squeegee queen’ added a further request. “When I have washed the shower can you rinse down the glass and walls in the hottest water possible, as it keeps the shower cubicle cleaner for longer”

Now my problem is this: quite naturally, I choose to shower ‘sans spectacles’ which means that, with my fading eyesight, I very often fail to notice whether the shower cubicle has been cleaned or not. I know that this is sacrilege to admit, but it is the truth. My only course of action was to do the hot rinse every time I shower to avoid missing this vital process when it is needed. My first attempt gave me close to third degree burns as I allowed the hot water to strike sensitive areas of my body, but I soon learned the techniques to avoid this painful experience. Then I found that running my toe over the lip of the door to avoid the tsunami on the floor put me in peril of blistering my feet, so another strategy was called for to cope with this.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I find myself stepping into my morning shower with a ‘to do’ list as long as my lathered arm of things that need to be done and to be avoided. Is it any wonder, then, that once in a while, I emerge from my shower with large parts of my body still dry and shaving foam still clinging to one side of my face, having forgotten the prime purpose of the showering exercise completely? That said, we do have an exceedingly clean bathroom floor and shower, so all is not lost. Apart from the simplicity of the shower I once knew and loved!