A Sign

 A sign of how tired I am.

I needed a nice long bath. I turned the knob on and went to put my hair up. I worried that the water would burn my foot off, so I dunked my toe in to test the water.

JESUS! That was cold. I darted across the room. 

I emptied the tub, distressed that the water was cold. I turned on the other knob and it too was cold. Why wouldn’t it be?

I went to Austin. He had taken a shower that morning.

Me: The water was fine when you took a shower, right?

Austin: Yeah. Maybe I used up all the hot water.

Me: Our hot water tank is only two years old. 

Austin: And that was several hours ago. It should have refilled.

Time went by. Austin made dinner. I decided to see if the water in the kitchen sink was cold. Nope, it was hot. 

Damn, that meant there was a problem with the upstairs shower. I’d switched the faucet to bath, so maybe something had rusted and broken, cutting off the hot water line. But it was getting late and I had work in the morning. I wouldn’t have time to get into the panelling and look at the plumbing till the weekend.

I sat on the ledge, a strange thought creeping into my brain as I stared at the corroded knobs.

I turned the knob at the left. (I had previously turned the one at the right.)

Jesus, I turned on the wrong knob. After a minute, the water was hot, just like it always is when you turn on the knob with a corroded H on it.