pump it up
I really love water pressure. Seriously, I love the kind of showers that rinse your hair in under ten seconds, blast off the first four layers of your skin, and pummel you into consciousness every morning. We have the water pressure of a vigorous watering can, so you can imagine my glee when Paul decided to tear the en suite bathroom apart last weekend and confirmed that we will get a new shower pump.
I don't care how pathetic this makes me sound; I believe that one of life's pleasures is a good shower. There is nothing worse than standing under a trickle of water, flapping my hair about in an attempt to get the shampoo out, but it only keeps getting soapier. When you've got a small child, time is of the essence. You don't have the luxury of taking a long steamy shower, you've got to get in and out in three minutes before your child starts screaming or figures out how to work the oven.
Water pressure makes me happy. This has absolutely nothing to do with my fireman fixation, I'll have you know.
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