Sometimes I could kill my husband. He can fix anything: plumbing, lighting, car engines, toys, holes in walls, anything. It’s just that sometimes he fixes things without my knowledge, lacking any sort of decorative style, or, for that matter, forethought. For example, my master bathroom sink once had a spray hose. I loved that spray hose. When the kids were babies I used it to rinse them off during those all too short months of sink baths. The hose helped get gobs of baby food out of my hair—no shower required. After a few years it became handy for blasting poop stains out of undies when the tykes hadn’t quite made it in time (I could hit it from several angles without handling the undies too much … loved that.). Clearing the sink of severed whiskers was easier, too. Just point and shoot. Bottom line, the spray hose was part of several cherished memories, and I was still using it to shave my legs. Life with the spray hose was idyllic until my oldest son got tall enough to reach it.

“Mommy, I need you in here!” That was the first ploy he used to lure me into the bathroom. I ran in there picturing all sorts of accidents that could have occurred: a self-inflicted gash on the cheek from a shaving experiment, blindness from a direct perfume spritz to the eyes, etc. As it turned out the big emergency only involved water, and it was no accident. Who knew the sprayer had such range, not to mention force? Once I figured out it wasn’t a plumbing problem I battled my way through the stinging jet streams of water to get at my little perpetrator. I toweled off while he spent his time out in the shower stall. You can be sure it was much harder to get me to come running in there after that. He gave up after about a week of pathetic attempts to repeat his treachery. One fateful Saturday morning, however, my husband fell for our son’s plea for help and walked right into a face full of wet. And that’s when he “handled” the situation with a perfect example of our different parenting tactics. I prefer to teach the boys self control and respect for others. My husband leans more to the rip-out-the-source-of-the-problem method. After he told me the boys wouldn’t be spraying anyone else ever again, I knew he had done the drastic. A trip to the bathroom confirmed my fears. No more sprayer, no more hose, just a perfect, chrome-rimmed hole where the “problem” used to be. Talk about lack of self control and respect for others!My choices were limited, but clear. I could get in a tussle over destruction of property in what is undeniably My Domain, or I could fix the problem myself and be deservedly smug while doing it. I decided on the latter, getting smugger by the minute. My local hardware store, and a helpful salesman who was sympathetic (and amused) with my story hooked me up with a doohickey known as the Deluxe Swivel Super Spray Saveraerator with Lever ($13.99). This little wonder replaces the aerator on the mouth of your faucet. I know what you are thinking, “the what on my where?” Well don’t panic, the aerator is just the part at the opening of your faucet that makes sure a little air mixes in to the water before it makes its exit. Without an aerator, water would rush out of your faucet and splash messily off the sides of your sink. It adds a little bubble to your flow, turning your faucet from a mini Niagara Falls to more of a babbling brook. Before you even think about getting a Saveraerator, make sure you can unscrew existing aerator with pliers or a monkey wrench. Also, I advise putting a dishrag between your aerator and your tool of choice, unless you don’t mind the tiny scratches that could result from your elbow grease.

Once you have removed your aerator and screwed the Saveraerator in its place, you’ll be delighted to see that it swivels around enough to reach every corner of the sink, but not so much that it can be aimed at anything (person) outside the sink. Simply pull the end of the Saveraerator out until it clicks to change the flow from normal to spray. To go back to normal flow, push the Saveraerator back in.
So I’m pretty proud about finding this great little device, plus, I installed it myself without hubby’s help. When I showed him my handiwork he gave it a brief nod and said, “nifty.” What he doesn’t know is that I’m not shaving my legs until he puts a warm lotion dispenser in that hole he left by the sink.

TIP: Never let your son or daughter vacuum toilet paper straight off the roll. True, it is amusing to see how fast that sucker can spin, but eventually the drive shaft of your vacuum motor will heat up and ignite the toilet paper inside the bag. This is a tough one to explain to the husband and/or Fire Chief.