Since there is still no way to bathe in our house and I can almost braid the hair on my legs, I have compiled a list of possible choices.
1. Apply for federal disaster aid to hire a contractor. – I don’t think self made problems compare to acts of nature, but Doug IS a force of something, so maybe it’s an option.
2. Declare ourselves a first world homestead. – This one probably won’t fly either, but perhaps someone will make an independent film about us and we can charge $750 per group tour. That money could be used for a licensed contractor and/or choice #3.
3. Stay at a hotel while Doug does construction. – The problem with this choice is the laundry for our family requires daily efforts or it becomes insurmountable. Of course, the water to the house has been on and off so much lately that laundry isn’t getting done fast enough anyway. I guess the only real problem with a hotel is that I would miss the 200 pounds of snuggly, furry, foot warmer at night.
4. Mormon missionaries – If you actually open your door for door-to-door Mormon salesmen and women, you know that they always offer to help with whatever excuse you give to avoid talking about their church. They are so polite and friendly that I believe they would get their short sleeve button downs dirty working on a stranger’s bathtub. Still, this is my very least favorite choice, so let’s pretend I didn’t even list it.
5. Build a quick hippie shower in the front yard. – With the groundhog’s promise that spring is near, I strongly suspect that rainwater showers are in our future. Doug will declare this as some sort of spiritual connection to nature, but I will refuse to accept that bathing in the front yard is an improvement over the current washcloth baths in the kitchen sink choice.
Updated with new ideas:
6. Shower only membership to a gym. – This seemed like a good idea until I saw it in writing. Now, it sounds like a Roman bath house and that is NOT what I need.