Passive Aggressive

There are some things about marriage that no one tells you about. They don't have to necessarily be good or bad, but they exist, and at some point, they make you laugh or scream. I'm going to be the one to point out the elephant in the room. Our bathroom, to be a little more specific.

Since the day my darling husband moved into my apartment in Brooklyn, to the bathroom we share now, we have been in this passive aggressive war over the placement of the shower head. No one talks about it, but every day when each of us showers, we move it back to where we want it. Sometimes, it's moved into an exaggerated position, to make a point, but we never speak about it. Not a word. Not once. 

I'm 5'3" and I don't wash my hair every day (as most women don't), so I like the shower head to be pointed pretty much directly downward and hit me somewhere below the shoulder blades. This way, no wet hair, but clean Dani. I mean, who showers with water in their face, anyway? How does one breathe? Or see what you're doing? Being constantly pummeled in the face with hot water is somewhere between being cooked alive and waterboarded at the same time. No thank you. 

Steve likes to stand with his head under the hot water for 10 minutes "thinking" before he actually washes himself. How he functions with his head under the water is a mystery; I just assume he's sprouted gills. Why he can't think before entering the shower, I don't know.  He's not a morning person, let's put it that way. So the shower is aimed directly at my eyeballs when I turn it on, if I don't adjust it first. 

And it happens again and again, day after day. 

And I have to laugh, because if I didn't, I'd probably die of frustration. 

And that's what it's like to be married.

All found images.