Our shower head died yesterday.  It only cost $2.99, so it wasn’t a huge loss, but we bought it the day after we moved into our non-ghetto apartment two years ago because the one that came with our new, but ultimately non-ghetto, apartment was the kind that pushed the water out so hard that it stung.

Anyway, the shower head died.

I’m not sure how it died, because it died while Joey was home from school because of an ice day, but it was something about clogging and leaking and rubber falling apart.

So he called me from the showerhead aisle at Target, where we got our original $2.99 showerhead, and he said “They’re out of the cheap one.”

He listed off the available models and, when he got to the Moen Rainshower, he knew he’d hit the one I wanted.

“But it’s too expensive,” I protested.

“Well, it’s not too bad,” Joey countered.

He walked out of Target with the Rainshower.

We went home after church and within ten minutes, Joey had installed the new shower head.  It was Henry’s Power Hour, so he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to us, just running around the house in crazed, concentric circles.  (Small dogs tend to have Power Hour, Henry is no exception.  And it is hilarious.)

Joey turned on the shower to test the shower head, and true to the packaging, water fell from the showerhead like a gentle rain.

“THIS IS FANTASTIC!” I squealed. (I don’t like showers that are forceful and stingy.)

“It’s pretty good, I guess,” Joey conceded.  (He does likes showers that are forceful and stingy.)

We shut the shower curtain with the water still running so we could make sure that water didn’t spray out when it was closed.  Our last shower head somehow managed to get water on the bathroom floor, which drove me bananas.  I was pleased to note that the rainshower didn’t have this problem.

Suddenly, I heared a thumping noise followed by what sounded like claws on linoleum.  Then a muted thud.

“HENRY!” I yelled, and Joey and I stared at each other.

Henry had just jumped into the shower and the water was running.  Obviously Power Hour was making him a little bit nutty in the noggin, because he hates the shower.  He loves the tub, but he hates the shower.

Joey and I stood there staring at the shower curtain, expecting to see Henry come bounding back out, but after half a minute we still didn’t see him.  Joey reached in, turned off the water and scooped Henry out, his wet paws dripping a little bit.  He set Henry down and we were about to dry his paws off when he took off again, bounding across the house to do more laps.

Weird dog.